


The Unconsenting Soul

by bookscorpion



Series: Changing of the Light [7]
Category: Shadowrun: Hong Kong
Genre: BDSM, BDSM Scene, Captivity, Consensual Non-Consent, Fear Play, Kink Negotiation, M/M, Master/Slave, Risk Aware Consensual Kink, Shameless Smut, Verbal Humiliation
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-01
Updated: 2019-10-20
Packaged: 2019-12-07 11:45:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 21,690
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18234428
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bookscorpion/pseuds/bookscorpion
Summary: With a deep breath, Duncan lets himself fall, into the mindspace he created for this. The fantasy swallows him up like water and he sinks into it.An informal sequel toNettled, but can be read on its own. Duncan and Rhys go for some elaborate roleplaying. Please mind the tags for this one!In thelatest chapter:'Do you think we are getting lost when we play? With me holding you captive I mean.' Rhys has made gingerbread and the whole apartment smells of it, cinnamon and sweet molasses. Duncan has once pointed out that Rhys only bakes gingerbread when he's upset and he isn't wrong.A much needed talk, and some smut.





	1. Behold Me in Dread

Rhys has an actual paper notebook and a pen and looks at Duncan expectantly, like they are doing an interview. 'So, tell me about you. Who are you?' They are facing each other on the couch, close enough that Duncan has a hand on Rhys' thigh, absentmindedly tracing circles with his fingers.

'I'm- me. More or less?' Duncan has to think for a moment. 'Shadowrunner I guess. But nothing glamorous. No-one looks for me if I just vanish from the street.'

'How did you get here?' The pen glides over the paper.

'I have no idea. I just woke up. Last thing I know, I was getting drunk in a bar after a good run.' A bit close to home maybe, but Duncan doesn't care.

'Mmhm.' Rhys scribbles furiously. 'So I assume you have no idea who I am, either?' Another note when Duncan shakes his head. 'I might threaten you with magic. Please don't call my bluff there, it's just flavour. How do you feel about being gagged? I'd give you a bell you can drop, as a safeword.'

'I think I should be fine? I don't know, never done that before.' Duncan's pulse speeds up at the thought. 'This is about pushing boundaries. So push.'

'Any boundaries you do not want pushed?' Rhys' pen is poised over the notebook.

'I- don't know? The usual stuff, I guess? And if I find out about one while we're playing, I have the safeword.' Duncan honestly can't think of anything.

Rhys puts away the notebook and pen and, from under the coffee table, gets a small package he hands Duncan, delivers it with a kiss. 'I have something for you.'

When Duncan unwraps it, carefully peeling off the heavy red paper, he finds a broad, soft leather collar. He lets it slide through his fingers, enjoys the supple feel of the leather, the smell of it and the satisfying clink of the thick, heavy metal ring attached to it. 'It's beautiful. Would you?' He holds it out to Rhys. 

'I had it made for you. I thought we could use it as a signal for beginning and ending the scene.' Rhys takes the collar and puts it around Duncan's neck. 'Comfortable?' When Duncan nods, Rhys pulls him forward with the ring and kisses him. 'You look gorgeous. I want to see you wearing it and nothing else.'

Wearing the collar is unfamiliar but Duncan loves it already, the weight of it reminding him whom he belongs to. 'Does that mean you want to start right away? I...wouldn't mind.' Duncan's question is answered when Rhys gets up and gently drags him towards the bedroom, two fingers hooked into the collar's ring.

  
  


A bit later Duncan is stretched out on the bed, naked. He's spreadeagled and shackled to the bed frame with heavy leather restraints and chains. There's a small, round bell in his right hand and he holds on to it, the smooth metal warming up against his skin. 

Rhys caresses Duncan's ear, follows the line of his jaw until he pushes his chin up with one finger. 'I'm going to blindfold you now and then leave you alone for a minute. When I come back, the scene starts. It ends when I leave the room again or when one of us uses the safeword. Okay?'

Duncan nods, the collar moving against his throat as he swallows. 'Okay.' Rhys leaves him alone in the darkness behind the blindfold. With a deep breath, Duncan lets himself fall, into the mindspace he created for this. The fantasy swallows him up like water and he sinks into it.

He's the prisoner. The slave. Who doesn't yet know that he is one. Who thinks he is a hostage or maybe is held for interrogation. Up to the point where he realises he is naked. Who keeps a hostage naked? On a bed? 

Interrogation then. His mind flips through every torture scenario he has ever heard of and each explanation is more unpleasant than the previous one. When he moves his head, there's pressure around his neck and a little tink of metal moving against metal. A- collar? The scenarios take an even darker turn.

  
  


When the door opens, he has lost track of time already. He tries to lie still, maybe pretend he's still knocked out. A touch to the leg makes him flinch and sabotages that plan. He hasn't heard any footsteps, not even the rustle of clothes. 

The touch is gentle and horribly intimate. Fingers trail up his thigh, narrowly avoid his cock, skim his stomach and chest. They end up on his neck, removing the blindfold.

His captor is an ork, fairly young, a long braid of dark hair falling over his shoulder. Slender. No match for Duncan in a fight. The smile he gives Duncan would be friendly under other circumstances, it even reaches his eyes. 

'Since you are awake, let me explain why you are here.' The voice throws Duncan back into himself for a second. The normal soft, melodious pattern is replaced by a clipped, crisp accent that cuts through Duncan's thoughts like shards of glass and makes him shiver. There's such a dissonance between Rhys' normal tone and this that he seems like a different person.

'What the _fuck_ is going on and who are you?' Duncan sounds less aggressive and threatening than he likes. 

'I am so glad you asked. You are here for my personal entertainment and enjoyment. You caught my eye, nevermind where, and I had you brought here. Don't bother calling for help, there's no one here who can hear you. No, let me rephrase: there are people who can hear you but they will not care.' There's no more trace of the smile. 

The ork carefully places the blindfold in a drawer, doesn't even look at Duncan while he speaks. As if he's been in this situation many times before and isn't that a cheerful thought? 'You think you can hurt or kill me, given the chance, maybe take me hostage to escape. You are probably right, but it's a spectacularly bad idea. If you even touch me without permission, a spirit will tear you apart. Maybe just break every bone in your body, depending on my mood. I am not a very patient or forgiving man. I suggest you get used to the idea that you belong to me as quickly as possible.' 

Duncan barks a laugh. 'You _wish_!'

'I wish, indeed. The first rule that you have to learn is that your wishes count for nothing from now on. Only what I want is important.' The man is serious, actually serious! He has done this before, Duncan is sure of it. And right now, Duncan's helpless and sees no option but to play along. Fuck. 

'My name is Rhys. For now, you can use it to address me. Tell me, have you ever had sex with another man before?' Rhys starts to undress while he's speaking. 

_Fuck!_ This cannot be happening. Duncan pulls on the shackles, but it gets him nowhere. He tries to ignore the fear gnawing at him like a trapped rat. 'What's it to you?'

Rhys is down to his underwear and stops for a moment to give Duncan another easy, friendly smile. 'Because if you have not, I will take time to prepare you, to train you. Teach you. It's entirely up to you.'

'I- haven't.' Why is he telling Rhys that? Why not tell him that he always wanted, but never dared, how about that? Just spill all his secrets before this man and give up whatever dignity he has left. He can't let that happen, can't let Rhys get into his head.

'Don't worry, I won't ask too much of you today. Nothing too complicated. You will suck my cock.' Rhys is naked and Duncan can't help but stare. There are tattoos all down Rhys' arms. Works of art on surprisingly muscular arms, the slender build is deceptive. 

Duncan's eyes are dragged further down to Rhys' cock, already hard, the head pushing the foreskin aside. There's no way he's going to take _that_ into his mouth. The thought alone is enough to make him gag, the collar a strangling pressure around his neck.

'Try it and I'll make you regret it.' Duncan snarls, baring his teeth.

Rhys sighs. 'This can go two ways. I can gag you in a way that forces your mouth open and then I'll fuck into it and I won't care if you can breathe. I'll do it until I come and make you swallow. Or you behave, open up on your own for me. You will still get fucked in the mouth but I will be gentle and if you please me, you won't have to swallow my cum. I do not recommend that you try to hurt me, that would be extremely unwise.' 

Duncan is not sure if the gag is an empty threat, but the thought is terrifying. So he opens his mouth and tries to fight down the rising panic as Rhys comes to kneel over him. 

  
  


The cock entering his mouth chokes him. Duncan raises his head and feels a little less suffocated but it also pushes the cock deeper. It's smooth and hot on his tongue, leaving a taste of skin and salt. Rhys keeps his promise of being gentle when he starts to fuck him, never going so deep that it triggers Duncan's gag reflex. 

It still is overwhelming. He can't get away. He could turn his head, but in the end he has to take this if he doesn't want to end up gagged with a cock down his throat. Maybe he can speed this up a bit. Hesitantly, he presses his tongue against the cock, starts to lick and suck. It speeds things up alright. 

He finds he can manage it. He just can't think about what is actually _happening_. Can't think about how he has been taken prisoner, tied to a bed and forced to suck cock. Can't think about the humiliation of it all and his helplessness. And most of all he cannot think about how his own cock is growing achingly hard.

Rhys picks up the pace even more. 'Suck harder, put some effort into it.' Duncan tries to remember what _he_ enjoys, so he can make Rhys come. It's hard to think when he's trying not to choke on his own spit and has to fight to get enough air. He can't swallow right. Drool starts to run down his chin. The collar seems to grow tighter around his neck, the ring clinking loudly with every thrust into his mouth.

His tongue finds the head of the cock and he licks over it. It gets him a welcome pause when Rhys pulls back a bit to let him do it. Duncan starts exploring the softness of the tip with his tongue, sucks on it. The salty taste isn't unpleasant, he thinks. Or the feeling of the hot, velvety skin of Rhys' cock between his lips. He raises his head a bit higher to get more of it into his mouth.

He's trying to get Rhys off so he'll be tired afterwards and leave Duncan alone. Yes. That is what he is doing. He is _not_ enjoying this. The fact that his cock is screaming to be touched is just a physical reaction. It does not mean that he wants this. 

The pause is over much too soon when Rhys starts fucking him again. Duncan does his best to keep sucking, to find a rhythm that will allow him to breathe and to pleasure Rhys at the same time. 

'Look at you, such a good slut. I can't believe you've never done this before, you have talent.' Rhys speeds up and now he pushes too deep, makes Duncan gag. The panic wells back up and Duncan's control over his breathing falls apart. Before it gets too much, Rhys pulls out. He sits back on Duncan's chest and strokes himself to completion. It doesn't take long, his movements fast and urgent. Hot cum splatters over Duncan's chest and neck, streaking his face. 

Duncan has his eyes closed, fighting the panic and the humiliation. Cum is dripping from his chin, mixing with the spit. Rhys is still heavy on his chest, panting and twitching. His fingers trace the lines of Duncan's face and lips. 'Lick my fingers clean.' 

When Duncan doesn't open his mouth immediately, the fingers force their way in. 'Don't make me ask twice.' Rhys other hand grabs Duncan's ear, pulls his head back. 

Duncan licks at the fingers, swallows the cum off of them. It's slimy on his tongue, salty and a bit musky. When Rhys gathers up some more, pushes it into Duncan's mouth, he eagerly laps it up. Just to appease Rhys. He does not enjoy the taste. He does not want to lick Rhys' cock. He does not want Rhys to just push it into his mouth again until it's clean.

He doesn't get it, either. Instead, he gets Rhys turning around and seeing how hard he still is. 'Do you want me to touch you?' Rhys trails a finger down Duncan's chest, circles his nipples. ''Do you want to come?'

It's hard to be defiant when there's cum on his face and his cock is twitching, but Duncan tries his best. 'I want you to let me go and never touch me again, you sick bastard!' He spits the words out through a snarl.

'Apparently, you need another reminder that your wishes count for nothing.' Rhys kneels between Duncan's legs. His fingers curl around Duncan's cock, stroking him, squeezing in just the right way. Duncan arches his back. The moan that escapes him against his will is almost a scream. 

Rhys sucks on the tip of Duncan's cock, hands on his hips to keep him still. One hand wanders to cup Duncan's balls and to start stroking his shaft again. Tension builds deep inside him and he wants to beg Rhys to make him come. Instead, he bites his lip hard to keep from moaning desperately. 

The hand on his cock does all the right things. Gentle strokes that speed up, a harder grip, squeezing the tip exactly the way Duncan needs it. He's shuddering, thrusting up into Rhys fist. 'Please, I want it-'

He's almost there when Rhys lets go of him and gets up. 'What did I tell you about your wishes? And mine?'

Duncan looks up at him, wide-eyed and confused. He's still shaking all over, his cock so hard it hurts, just _moments_ from release. 'But-'

'I realise this is all new for you, so I am going to ask again this once. What did I tell you about your wishes and mine?' Rhys frowns impatiently, his voice cold.

'My wishes don't mean anything.' Duncan draws a deep, shivering breath. 'Only what you want is important.' 

'Very good, you do remember. I invite you to think it over until tomorrow.' Rhys turns and leaves. The door shuts behind him and Duncan is alone with his thoughts. With a bitter taste in his mouth and his cock throbbing painfully with shameful lust.

  
  


It takes a bit for Duncan to surface from the depths of the fantasy. He blinks, shakes himself like a wet dog, the chains rattling. Rhys is back, opening the restraints, pulling him into a hug. 'Is everything alright? Did you enjoy yourself?' He takes off the collar, kisses Duncan's neck and throat, gently wipes away cum and spit with a tissue.

Duncan doesn't answer right away, he needs to collect his thoughts. He knows one thing: he wants _more_ of this. 'Fuck, that was intense. You are terrifying, you know that? But yeah, I enjoyed myself.'

'Good. I did, too. I'm glad we're doing this. I'm glad you trusted me with this.' Rhys presses his forehead against Duncan's, one hand caressing the back of Duncan's neck. 

Duncan loses himself in Rhys' dark hazel eyes for a moment, a shiver running over him. 'I'm glad you asked me. I don't know if I would have said anything on my own.'

'I think you would have, eventually. You trust yourself much more than you used to.' Rhys hasn't let go, his hand straying into Duncan's hair.

Duncan doesn't know what to say, but he knows Rhys is right. Following the intense scene, this is a bit too much for him and he has to clear his throat before he finds his voice. 'I adore you, but can we go take a shower? Your cum is everywhere and it's sticky.' 

Rhys raises an eyebrow, he clearly recognises the deflection for what it is. But he doesn't push. 'Sure.' A quick kiss later, he gets up and takes Duncan's hand. 'Terrifying, huh? I am delighted to hear that, but you've seen _nothing_ yet.' 

For a moment, the clipped accent is back and it raises every hair on Duncan's body. He knows this was a promise and he's both eager and scared to see what will happen when they play again. But for now, he's more than content with just a shower and some cuddling, he needs it. The scene has left him drained and tired and he gladly lets Rhys take care of him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The fic title is from a quote by Ursula K. Le Guin's The Wizard of Earthsea: _He had almost yielded, but not quite. He had not consented. It is very hard for evil to take hold of the unconsenting soul._  
>  I hesitated a bit to use her lovely and profound quote for my pwp story, but from all I know about Le Guin, I think she wouldn't mind.
> 
> Chapter title is a quote from Dead Can Dance's [I am Stretched on Your Grave](https://youtu.be/bXIfTGAfBvg)
> 
> Betaread by [Raunchyandpaunchy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/raunchyandpaunchy/pseuds/raunchyandpaunchy) who writes awesome Skyrim smut. Check out [The Edged Lexicon](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15758052/chapters/36650358) \- it's delicious!


	2. Pleasures Never Found

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Rhys knows exactly how Duncan likes being touched and uses it against him, makes Duncan's own body into a tool to break his will._  
>  Smut and two forced confessions.
> 
> Content info and tags for chapter are in the end notes.

'You can tell me why you've never slept with a man before while I prepare you.' Rhys settles between Duncan's legs, forced apart by shackles. He has curtly informed Duncan that today will be spent training him so he can take a plug up his ass. Duncan is pathetically relieved when he sees Rhys getting the lube bottle. He hasn't gotten more than a glance at the plug but it looked entirely too big.

The first touch of Rhys' finger against his entrance makes Duncan choke on his defiant reply. He tenses up, his breathing shallow and fast. 'Please don't-' The finger pushes into him, just a bit, and he makes a pitiful, scared noise. This is a nightmare and he hates how afraid he is.

It's not actually painful. But it still rips his dignity from him, with every gentle push that works the finger in deeper until he can feel Rhys' knuckles stretching him wide. He turns his head aside into the pillow and closes his eyes so he doesn't have to see Rhys watching. 

With closed eyes, there's nothing to distract him as the finger slides out, pushes back in. Slowly, forcing him to be conscious of every little movement. He would have preferred it to be painful, he could handle pain. Pain would have been a distraction. And maybe pain would have kept his cock from growing hard.

'You do enjoy this. You may not want to, but you do. So why didn't you try before? Were you afraid? A fierce street animal like you, can't let anyone think you're gay, is that it?' Rhys adds a second finger. 

Duncan flinches away from the intrusion but the shackles don't leave him any room and he has to endure it.

'You _are_ going to tell me. The only choice you have is how much pain you will be in when you do. You can think it over until you have the plug up your ass. If you haven't told me then, I will punish you.' Rhys' tone is casual but Duncan has already seen enough of him to take this seriously. Still, he cannot bring himself to speak. He doesn't want to, will not give Rhys the satisfaction. Let him try to torture it out of Duncan. It wouldn't be the first time someone has tried that.

His train of thought is catastrophically derailed when Rhys curls a finger up inside of him and lightly presses down on Duncan's prostate. He knows what this is, has read about it. Has been tempted to try it out himself, but shame has kept him from it. Now, that shame burns inside of him as the pleasure he gets from it coils in his groin, makes his cock twitch. 

Duncan becomes aware that he is moaning with every touch. He can't stop even when he tries, his self-control shattered.

'You're a loud one, aren't you? I like that. I can't wait to find out how you sound when I actually fuck you.' Rhys stops for a moment and the pause allows the words to sink in.

Duncan can't help but gasp at the thought of having Rhys' cock inside him. The fingers are bad enough, working him open, his body slowly getting past the first shock of penetration. He whimpers when his imagination presents him with a vivid and entirely unwanted image of Rhys on top of him, his cock sliding into Duncan. 

Rhys withdraws his fingers. 'Don't worry, I'll give you more time and training. When I'm done with you, you will beg to get fucked, I promise.'

In one deliberate movement, he pushes the plug into Duncan. It turns out that Duncan isn't prepared in any way for this and pulls the chains taut while he tries in vain to close his legs. The plug is hard and _foreign_ inside of him. His muscles contract around it and it's held in place no matter how much he squirms. 

If he lies still, it's not quite as bad. He can get used to this. A part of him would prefer Rhys to keep fucking him - there is at least some pleasure in that. This is just uncomfortable and a reminder that he no longer can decide what happens to his own body. 

Rhys doesn't give him much time to get used to it before he starts to spread lube on Duncan's cock, none too gently. 'I'm somewhat disappointed you didn't answer my question, although not exactly surprised. Feel free to stop me at any time if you decide you want to tell me after all. Maybe I'll still be in the mood to listen.'

After what Rhys has already done to him, it doesn't take long for Duncan to start shuddering and gasping. The way Rhys handles him is ...efficient, there is no other word for it. As if making Duncan come is a chore he has to get done and he doesn't even have to put much thought into it.

It's humiliating and it's made worse by how fast Duncan loses control and starts to rut into Rhys' fist. He arches his back as much as the chains allow when he comes, spurting cum all over his own stomach.

Rhys doesn't stop.

He keeps stroking, paying special attention to the head of Duncan's cock, made overly sensitive by the orgasm. Duncan bucks wildly, involuntarily. He cries out, begs Rhys to stop, despite knowing better. Spasms shake his body, his breath comes in frantic gasps.

He cannot tell how long it lasts until Rhys has to stop because Duncan's cock goes limp. But one look at Rhys tells him it's not over. While he tries to breathe evenly again, Rhys gets up, wipes his hands clean and picks up a book from a shelf. He sits down between Duncan's legs and starts to read, absentmindedly petting Duncan's thighs and balls. Cum trickles down Duncan's sides, unpleasantly cool, leaving an itchy trail.

When Duncan opens his mouth to say something, Rhys shushes him without even looking up from his book. 'I'm currently not interested in what you have to say.'

'But-'

Now Rhys looks up from the book and the cold anger on his face makes Duncan swallow his words. 'I can gag you if you absolutely cannot shut up? No? Good.'

A lot faster than he'd like, Duncan's cock takes note of the petting and starts to grow hard again. Rhys finishes the page, closes the book and returns his undivided attention to making Duncan come, in the same efficient and well-practised manner as before. 

Duncan tries to think of something boring but he cannot take his mind off the situation. Certainly not when Rhys starts to fuck him with the plug, pushes it into Duncan in time with his strokes. Struggling gets Duncan nowhere, the restraints make sure that he has to take whatever Rhys wants to do to him. He hates how good this feels. 

Rhys knows exactly how Duncan likes being touched and uses it against him, makes Duncan's own body into a tool to break his will. It's working. The orgasm he forces from Duncan is unwanted but still Duncan is shaking all over, moaning and bucking. He gets a second to breathe before Rhys takes him in hand again. At least he uses some lube, but it's still painful in its intensity and Duncan cries out, his body jerking. He has no control over his muscles and can't stop twitching and shuddering. Every touch is an excruciating shock, his senses shutting down from sheer overload.

'Please, stop!' For a few seconds, Duncan thinks Rhys isn't going to, but then the hand on his cock is gone and he can catch his breath. 

At least until Rhys rubs a finger over the head of his cock. 'Would you like to tell me something?' He takes the finger away, gives Duncan a chance to answer.

'Yes.' Duncan chokes on the bitter taste of the words. 'I didn't do it because I had enough to do with people treating me like shit because I'm an ork and because I come from the street. Didn't need to add another reason.'

'Mmhm.' Rhys considers that answer. 'But surely you could have had anonymous sex. It's not like that is a new problem and people haven't found solutions for it.'

'I was ashamed, okay? That's what you want to hear, isn't it? I didn't do it because I was ashamed and I hate myself for being like this.' The mixture of rage and humiliation at admitting this roughs up Duncan's voice, makes it hoarse and shaky. 

'I wanted to hear the truth. And this _is_ the truth. I congratulate you on your choice of not lying to me, that would have been a very bad idea.' Rhys smiles at him, entirely too cheery. 'Tell me something you've fantasised about.' His hand hovers over Duncan's cock, a wordless reminder of what happens if Duncan doesn't answer.

Duncan stares at him, at a loss for words. This is even worse than admitting his shame and for a minute he's tempted to make something up. But he doesn't dare to. Even if his imagination would work well under pressure, which it doesn't. Not this kind of imagination at least.

'I- want to get fucked somewhere public. Almost public. Where people could walk in at any moment. And I don't get asked, I get taken.' He would gladly just evaporate now if he could. His ears burn and he knows he has blushed, signalling his embarrassment in case Rhys missed all the other obvious signs. Like how Duncan cannot look at him right now, trying his best to bury his face in the pillow.

'Well. The last part is something you're going to get to experience quite soon. The rest...can be arranged once you learn to behave yourself.' Rhys' tone isn't threatening. It's encouraging, like this is something Duncan should look forward to. A reward, to ensure his cooperation.

It's the last thing Duncan ever wants to do, but he also recognises the chance at escape this would give him. He still hasn't figured out if Rhys really doesn't see anything wrong with keeping him prisoner. Broken moral compass aside, Rhys isn't stupid and well aware that he needs to be careful. But maybe Duncan can deceive him, lull him into a false sense of security. 

For the first time since waking up in this room, Duncan sees a way out of this situation. He'd rather not think about what he will have to do to actually convince Rhys that he is a willing slave.

Rhys interrupts those plans by climbing on top of Duncan. He very carefully avoids touching Duncan's cock, instead runs his palms over Duncan's side and chest, hooks a finger into the ring of the collar. 'You did reasonably well today. Not well enough for a reward, but enough not to get punished further.' He pulls on the ring, a little pressure that reminds Duncan who owns him.

'Thank you.' Duncan manages to say it without sounding sarcastic. In fact, he sounds submissive and meek, much more than he planned to. 

With a last little caress to his face, Rhys lets go and gets up. 'We'll continue your training next time.' He leaves the room.

When Rhys comes back, Duncan doesn't say much while Rhys frees him, gently takes out the plug and unclasps the collar. 

'Are you okay? You're very quiet.' Rhys puts the collar aside and touches Duncan's neck, cups his jaw.

Duncan nods, turns his face into Rhys' palm. 'Yeah, I'm okay. I enjoyed myself, but I want to talk about a couple of things. I think we need to do a bit of planning there. But I want to shower first.'

'You do that, I'll be here when you get back.' Rhys sends him on his way with a kiss.

When Duncan comes back, showered and dressed, Rhys has changed the sheets but he's not in the room. Duncan goes to investigate and finds him on the couch, holding a mug of tea and nibbling on a cookie. There's a plate of those and another mug and Duncan happily accepts the unspoken invitation.

'I want to talk about that fantasy,' Duncan blushes again. 'I didn't make that up.'

'I can see that.' Rhys grins, obviously pleased. 'Do you want to do it? As part of the slave thing?' When Duncan nods, Rhys' grin gets even wider, fangs clearly visible. 'Are you okay with having to wait for it? I like how this is turning into a story and I can absolutely fit that in, but not right away.'

Duncan stirs some sugar into his tea, Rhys' black tea isn't for the faint of heart. 'Sure, I can wait. I like the story thing, too. Fair warning, I might try to escape. Or not. We best talk about that when we get there.' He takes a sip of tea and adds another lump of sugar. 

'Can I ask how much of your character's backstory comes from you? About being ashamed of being bi?' Rhys puts his mug down and watches Duncan carefully.

'Some of it. It's the second thing I wanted to talk about, actually.' Duncan breathes in the smell of the tea, lets the warmth of the mug calm him. He isn't looking forward to this. 'I'm not entirely sure why I even brought it up. I've told you about Raymond being relieved when I started to date a girl. It didn't exactly come as a surprise when he said that.'

He moves closer to Rhys, close enough that he can play with Rhys' ponytail, let the strands slide through his fingers. 'I've never felt really ashamed. I've always been too angry for shame. But it wears you down, you know? People telling you that it's just a phase. That you're not really gay. That you'll fuck anything that doesn't get away fast enough because you're bi. That you'll cheat, sooner or later.' 

'I fucked around in my teens, sure. And people were pretty okay with that, no one cared that I was gay. But then I figured out I'm into women, too, and suddenly people looked at me strange. Like I'm poaching in their territory. Like the fact that I'm bi means that I'm suddenly interested in everyone and trying to steal everyones' date.' Duncan puts down his tea harder than intended and it spills on his hand, but he ignores it.

'Enough people were still okay or got it when I pointed out that they were talking bullshit. I wasn't that big on pointing things out except with a punch, though. Cost me a few friendships. So yeah, I'm not ashamed and I never was. But I have issues there.' He shrugs.

'You have issues with other peoples' issues.' Rhys takes Duncan's hand and casts a small healing spell. 'Are you okay with me teasing you about the shame in the scene?'

Duncan thinks for a moment. 'Yeah. And you can play around with these stereotypes. Like, assume that I believe that shit about myself. Just don't say I'm actually like that. That, I don't know, I can't resist you because I'm bi and I'll fuck anything. Don't do that.'

Rhys shakes himself. 'I've heard that often enough myself. Not sexy. But yeah, I can work with that. Play on the,' he makes the quotes audible, 'personal 'relationship' between us.'

'This will get so fucked up.' Duncan goes for a horrified tone but doesn't try very hard to hide how much he looks forward to it.

Rhys grin is delighted. He carefully swings a leg over Duncan, straddles him and hugs him. 'I can promise you that _someone_ will get fucked next time. If they behave.'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoops, sudden angst in my smut. I am officially removing the porn without plot tag, this fic is going places I hadn't planned and apparently, there will be plot after all.
> 
> CONTENT INFO: discussion of homophobia/biphobia, orgasm torture, forced orgasm, anal play  
>   
> Betaread by [Raunchyandpaunchy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/raunchyandpaunchy/pseuds/raunchyandpaunchy) \- thank you!  
> [This is the book Rhys reads](https://www.amazon.com/GARDEN-EARTHLY-DELIGHTS-HIERONYMUS-1982-08-01/dp/B01K3JXY2S/ref=sr_1_fkmrnull_1?keywords=The+Garden+of+Earthly+Delights+beagle&link_code=qs&qid=1555501408&s=gateway&sourceid=Mozilla-search&sr=8-1-fkmrnull), The Garden of Earthly Delights by Peter S. Beagle (who also wrote The Last Unicorn)
> 
> Chapter title is a quote from Inkubus Sukkubus [Soul Inside](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ASZGhu4Opno)


	3. Sweet Song of Despair

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Duncan bites his tongue to stay quiet, trying not to fill the silence with more begging. Instead, he fills it with small moans._  
>  Duncan's self-control starts to slip. There will be consequences.

When Rhys opens the restraints holding his left hand, Duncan thinks for a moment that he could grab him. But he remembers Rhys' warning about the spirit very well and doesn't risk it. It's not worth it.

'You have no more problems taking the plug, so we'll try something different today.' Rhys stands just out of reach, lubing up a dildo. It's considerably longer than the plug and a bit thicker. Duncan can't imagine having it up his ass, that is surely going to _hurt_ no matter how much lube Rhys uses. 

Rhys holds it out to him. 'I'll let you do it yourself, take your time.' Duncan takes the dildo and Rhys backs away again, wiping his hands on a tissue. He sits down in a very comfortable looking armchair, one leg draped over the armrest.

Duncan reaches down between his legs and positions the bright blue cock, pressing it against his entrance. He has to raise his hips, pulling the chains taut, and it only adds to his discomfort. It doesn't help that he's tense, expecting a thoroughly unpleasant experience. 

His ass gets stretched wide as he pushes the tip of the dildo in. Wearing the plug did prepare him for this, he realises with relief. Once the head is inside, it gets easier. He pauses when it's about as deep as the plug reached and feels along its length to find out how much is still left. Quite a bit, as it turns out. 

Rhys watches him like a hawk, never taking his eyes off Duncan. He spots the hesitation immediately. 'Fuck yourself with it. It'll make it easier.'

Duncan has his doubts. The plug was bad enough, stretching and filling him, a constant irritation he was forced to learn to accept. The dildo is much more of an intrusion and he doesn't think he'll ever get used to it. It's ridged, massaging his muscles with every little push.

Still, he won't argue with Rhys, not about this. He starts sliding the cock in and out, turning his head away from Rhys' gaze. A collar around his neck and a dildo up his ass - the thought of how he looks right now makes him cringe. 

There's a scritching sound he can't place and he looks back at Rhys. A black book in hand, Rhys is busy sketching him. It could be worse, Duncan thinks, he could take pictures or make a trid. Or a Simsense recording. A small groan escapes him when his brain presents him with that possibility and he hopes Rhys is not into that. It would tear another piece of himself from Duncan, lay open his emotions and senses to Rhys. Not his thoughts, at least not that. 

The attention Rhys gives him while working on the sketch is intense enough as it is. He doesn't stare, looks down on his sketch often, but when he does look up, it's like he's trying to memorise every detail. There's no hiding from his gaze.

Duncan tries to ignore it. Which means he has to concentrate on what he is doing. Despite his doubts, his body accepts the dildo readily by now and even starts to find pleasure in it. It comes as a surprise when he can push it all the way in. He angles it a bit, experiments to see what feels best, fucks himself in long strokes.

He can't help but nudge his cock while he does it, touch his balls. It gives him a little shiver every time it happens and he wishes he had both hands free. Since that is not going to happen, he works with what he has, raises his hips so he can hit the right spot with the dildo. The one that makes him moan, makes his cock twitch and leak precum.

Duncan has almost forgotten he's not alone until Rhys gets up. But his words bring Duncan back into reality as effectively as a cold shower. 'You're doing very well. I think it's time you learned how to address me properly since we're about to take this relationship a step further. You will call me Sir. Do you understand?'

Duncan freezes. He panics at the thought of having Rhys fuck him. That _is_ what he is talking about and Duncan has been dreading it. He decides to play for time. 'Yes, Sir.' The honorific comes easily to him, it creates some welcome distance. It makes it easier to say what he wants to say. What he wants to beg for.

'Please, Sir, I need more time. I want to get more comfortable with it, learn to enjoy it. So I can please you better. I don't want to disappoint you, Sir.' He's not sure if Rhys buys it, if he hasn't overdone it. 

Rhys thinks it over while he fastens the restraint around Duncan's wrist again. He undresses and Duncan's pulse speeds up, his body flooding with adrenaline in a fight or flight response. Neither is an option and he has to lie there and wait for whatever Rhys decides to do to him.

Climbing on the bed, Rhys starts to fuck him with the dildo. Gently and slowly, savouring every moment of it. His free hand strokes Duncan's balls, plays with them, caresses the sensitive skin underneath them. Just like Duncan had wished he could do. Rhys still hasn't said a word. Duncan bites his tongue to stay quiet, trying not to fill the silence with more begging. Instead, he fills it with small moans.

'See to it that it stays put.' Rhys gives the dildo one last push before he straddles Duncan. 'I'm going to let you have more time, but I will get some use out of you today.'

Duncan swallows, a dry click in his throat. The dildo already starts to slip and he tenses up, trying to keep it in place. 

Rhys moves so he can lube up Duncan's cock, his fingers warm under the cool liquid. The touch sends a shiver of pleasure up Duncan's spine. He flinches, the memory of being forced to come still fresh in his mind. It makes the dildo shift a bit more.

'You are to keep still unless I say otherwise. And you don't get to come, is that understood?' Rhys positions himself and Duncan realises he plans to ride him.

With a small groan, he resigns himself to punishment. 'Yes, Sir.' 

Very slowly, Rhys lowers himself onto Duncan's cock until it is sheathed. Duncan takes a deep shuddering breath and grips the chains to keep himself from moving. And he _wants_ to move. He just isn't sure if he wants to throw Rhys off or fuck him. 

Rhys leans forward with a long sigh. 'Such an entertaining toy you are, with such a nice hard cock. It would be a shame not to use it, don't you think?' His voice is gentle and he lightly pets Duncan's sides and stomach, trails his fingertips through the hairs on Duncan's chest. 

The gentleness makes Ducan's skin crawl. It would be easier if Rhys would just take what he wants but he really expects Duncan to accept this as a compliment. Duncan doesn't answer right away and yelps when Rhys pinches his nipples.

'I asked you something.' Rhys hasn't let go, squeezes hard, the dull pain rising in pitch.

'Yes! Yes, Sir.' Duncan knows this is not the right answer the moment he says it and Rhys twists his nipples, making him cry out. 

He takes a desperate guess. 'Yes, Sir, I need to be used! I'm here for your pleasure!'

Rhys lets go with a satisfied smile. 'Very good.' He reaches behind himself to stroke Duncan's balls and pushes the dildo back in. 'Careful. Don't lose it.'

With Rhys riding him in languid, sensual movements, moving only his hips, Duncan has a hard time not enjoying it. His cock glides in and out of Rhys, muscles contracting around it every time Rhys sits back. Duncan fights, won't give in to what his body wants. Won't be made into a _toy_ by Rhys, ready to serve his master's every wish. He needs to make Rhys believe it, but not too fast and he mustn't accept it himself. There's not so much left of his dignity and free will that he can afford to give up more.

He's glad about the distraction of the dildo sliding out of him, excruciatingly slow. Tightening his muscles helps a little, but he can't stop it. 

Rhys starts to move faster. He raises himself up until only the tip of Duncan's cock is still inside him and fucks himself on it. His muscles squeeze the soft, sensitive head every time it pushes past his entrance again and Duncan shudders. A loud moan escapes him when Rhys takes him all the way again, hot and tight around his cock. 

'You can't help but enjoy this, can't you? After denying yourself for so long, this _is_ what you want. It's nothing to be ashamed of, you'll learn to accept it. Be glad you're with me now.' Rhys doesn't seem to expect an answer and Duncan wouldn't have known what to say anyway. A small part of him wonders if Rhys is right.

When Rhys starts to fuck him in earnest, it doesn't take long for the pleasure to become impossible to ignore. Every time his cock slides into Rhys, it tears down some more of Duncan's defenses. Eventually, he starts to move his hips, just a bit at first, then in hard thrusts. He's going to get punished anyway, he might as well get something out of this.

The dildo slips out of him, there is no way Duncan can hold it inside any longer. He is torn between wanting to be filled again and relief that he's no longer spread open by it.

Rhys ignores all of this. He has taken himself in hand, strokes his own cock in time with Duncan's thrusts, his head thrown back, moaning loudly. He does look striking, muscles taut beneath tattooed skin.

Duncan wants to touch him, trace those muscles, run his palms over Rhys' skin and feel how soft and warm it is. So far, he hasn't been allowed to and suddenly, he's hungry for it. He wonders how it would be to kiss Rhys, to bury his hands in Rhys' hair. 

And this close, a very different part of him thinks, it would be easy to kill Rhys. Snap his neck, fast enough that he's dead before the spirit guarding him can react. Duncan is sure he could do it. But shackled to the bed, this is a moot point. He needs to be a good slave, an interesting toy so Rhys trusts him. 

For now, he does his best to please Rhys, pays attention to what makes him moan and how he likes to be fucked. He's so lost in watching Rhys that his orgasm takes him before he remembers that he's not supposed to come. 

Rhys cries out when Duncan's thrusts become erratic and hot cum spurts on Duncan's stomach. With Rhys half collapsed on top of him, gasping for air, Duncan thinks for a moment that he might be forgiven. 

The illusion is shattered when Rhys pushes himself up and cruelly twists Duncan's nipples. 'What did I tell you to do?'

Duncan sucks in a frightened breath. 'I was to keep still. And I had to keep the dildo in my ass.' A hard squeeze and he hurries to finish. 'I wasn't allowed to come.' He can hear the waver in his own voice and is sickened by it, by how scared he is of Rhys' anger. His cock shrivels and slips out.

'I'm not sure if you did this on purpose or if you just couldn't help yourself. But honestly, I don't care all that much.' Rhys lets go. A moment of relief before Duncan's nipples get twisted again, making him almost cry out. He bites his tongue and it turns into a moan, still much louder than he'd like. 

'I will punish you next time, I really don't have the time for this right now. I expected better of you. This is quite disappointing.' Rhys gets off of the bed. The flash of anger is gone and he sounds disinterested. Bored. It scares Duncan even more, he _needs_ to be interesting. 

'I'm sorry, Sir-'

'I don't want to hear it.' Rhys cuts him off. 'If you can't be bothered to obey me, I'm not sure I care to keep you. I'll think about it.' He picks up his clothes and walks out, leaving Duncan with a mounting sense of dread.

Duncan still hasn't shaken the dread by the time Rhys comes back. After he's free of the restraints and the collar, he hugs Rhys. 'I'm sorry, I really didn't do that on purpose.'

Rhys makes a surprised noise and squeezes him tight. 'I wouldn't mind if you had? And I did set you up to fail. Did I push too hard? Do you want to not actually play out the next time they meet? We can just talk it over and continue the story later.'

'No. No, it's okay. I'm just - let's take a shower. Give me a bit to get my head out of this. Let's talk when we're done.' Just hearing Rhys' normal voice makes Duncan feel better.

After cleaning up, they huddle under the blankets, Duncan with his head on Rhys' chest. 'I'm not sure what happened there, but I don't want to skip the next part of the story. You just hit that tone of voice, it got to me, together with ending the scene in that moment. But I liked how intense that was.'

Rhys pushes a pillow behind his head so he can look at Duncan. 'If you want to, we can play on that angle next time. I'm disappointed and I'm punishing you for your own good so you learn to behave and so I can keep you around. It would be a shame to waste all that effort I already put into you. Something like that.'

A shiver runs down Duncan's spine. 'Sounds good to me. Be harsh. I'll regret saying this, but I want it severe.'

'Oh, I can do that.' Rhys trails a finger over Duncan's ear. 'You'll definitely regret it and you'll be so thankful for even the smallest kindness in the end, I promise you that.'

Duncan rolls on top of Rhys, kisses him and gives him a very gentle bite to the throat. 'I'll hold you to that promise.' He remembers something and props himself up on his elbows. 'Can I see the sketch you did?' He knows that Rhys has drawn him before but has never asked to see it. 

'Sure.' Rhys waves in the direction of the nightstand, he can't reach with Duncan on top of him. 'Grab the sketchbook, the page is still marked.'

Duncan does so and sits up, opening the book. Rhys has sketched him in broad strokes: hips raised, muscles taut and clearly visible, head arched back and eyes closed in pleasure. It's an intimate moment, made even more intimate by the fact that this is a drawing. 

Seeing himself through Rhys' eyes is strange but exciting. Rhys has captured his physicality, his strength and size, but also a great deal of vulnerability. Duncan isn't used to seeing himself vulnerable. It makes his heart ache, a bittersweet taste on his tongue. He gently closes the book, puts it away. 'Would you show me the other sketches you made of me? Not right now, but some other time?'

Rhys nods and waits until Duncan has rolled into his arms again. 'There are ... quite a few. You're an interesting subject. Tell you what, I'll just give you the book and you can look at them when you feel like it.'

Duncan closes his eyes, the sketch still vivid in his memory. 'I'd like that.'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta read by [Raunchyandpaunchy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/raunchyandpaunchy/pseuds/raunchyandpaunchy) \- thank you so much
> 
> Chapter title is from Inkubus Sukkubus' [Vampyre Erotica](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Dte-u_lsmdc)


	4. For a Bitter Pain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Fingernails digging into his palms, Duncan tries to breathe through the pain, to ride it out. Every new stroke makes it harder, jolting his concentration until it shatters._  
>  Duncan is punished for his failure last time.  
> Content info in the AN

'Five-', Duncan takes a deep breath through his nose. Every single one of the five cane strokes has left a burning trace on his thighs. But right now, the miserable humiliation is worse than the pain. He wants to be somewhere, _anywhere_ else, a wish he has silently made countless times. But wishing has never gotten him anywhere and this is no different.

So here he is, standing with his back to Rhys, a heavy chain connecting his collar to the bed frame. Another much shorter chain is shackling the leather cuffs on his wrists to a pair of clover clamps biting down on his nipples, forcing him to hold his arms in an already very uncomfortable position to avoid pulling on the clamps. Rhys has told him that he will reattach them elsewhere should Duncan pull them off. Duncan isn't eager to find out where that would be.

Another strike slashes across his thighs and he flinches. He is to count every fifth one. Rhys hasn't mentioned how many there will be or what happens if Duncan loses count. Duncan wishes he had, not knowing just means that he imagines all the possibilities, in excruciating detail. So far, he can tell apart every single welt because Rhys spaces them out, the cane's bite astonishingly unpleasant and only slowly fading. 

'Ten.' 

The first stroke across his ass. It's a bit less painful than the ones on the thighs, for now. Duncan tries to breathe evenly, anticipate the rhythm. It works for a while-

'Fifteen.'

-and then Rhys picks up on it and lays just a gentle tap on Duncan's ass, laughs softly when Duncan jumps. It makes Duncan want to turn around and rip Rhys' throat out. He clenches his teeth and balls his hands to fists. The movement pulls on the clamps and the pain only feeds his rage. He growls deep in his throat.

Rhys is suddenly directly behind him, reaching around and taking off the clamps. There's no more air left in Duncan's lungs to make a sound as the blood rushes back into his nipples, the whitened skin turning dark red. 

He gets a short break and jumps again when the tip of the cane stutters over the welts on his thighs, setting them alight once more, before gently tapping Duncan's balls. 'Put the clamps on again.'

Duncan does as he is told, making a pathetic little noise when he has to pinch his nipples to properly attach the clamps. They bite deep into his flesh and he holds back another, louder groan.

He cannot hold his whimpering back when Rhys starts caning his ass and he realises that so far, Rhys had been holding back. The strokes land on Duncan's skin hard and fast, he has barely time to process the pain of each before the next one comes.

'Twenty- twentyfi-'

A brutal slash across his thighs cuts his voice off and his breath hitches. He can't keep from pulling on the clamps, can't keep his arms still enough. The chains holding him rattle with every flinch.

'Thirty- please-'

Fingernails digging into his palms, Duncan tries to breathe through the pain, to ride it out. Every new stroke makes it harder, jolting his concentration until it shatters.

'Thi- Thirtyfive. Sir, please-' 

The prick of tears stings at Duncan and he squeezes his eyes shut to force them back. He wants to beg but he knows perfectly well that it will only get him more punishment. Or is it what Rhys wants to hear? Does he want Duncan to humiliate himself? Would he like it enough that he would _stop_?

'Forty-' 

He can't bring himself to really beg, refuses to be broken in that way. Instead, he lets his training take over: keep it together until the job is done. Only he isn't used to waiting helplessly for the pain to stop. It would be so easy to turn and grab Rhys, end this. There was no way Rhys could win a fight if Duncan was quick enough. But if he isn't, Rhys will tear him apart. Or just overpower him and punish him, keep him anyway. Duncan isn't sure what would be worse.

'Forty-five-'

The pain makes him flinch so hard he lose his balance, staggers forward. He hurries to get back into position. Presents himself again for more strokes marking his ass. The clamps are almost pulled off when he stumbles. The pain gets sharper as they squeeze only the tip of his nipples. He bites back a sob.

'Fifty. _Please!_ ' 

Rhys stops.

Duncan stands trembling, sucking down air in big gasps. His arms quiver as he fights to keep them up. Sweat runs down his back and over the welts on his ass and thighs, making them sting. He's sure he's bleeding, skin torn open by the cane.

Rhys is in front of him, a hand to Duncan's cheek. Duncan nods, presses a quick kiss to Rhys palm. Rhys gives him a quick smile before walking behind him. 

There's the rustle of clothes and Duncan tries to catch his breath as much as he can. When Rhys steps in front of him again, he's naked and Duncan can't help but breathe in his smell. He wants Rhys to touch him, to do whatever he wants with him. 

He almost cries out when Rhys takes off the clamps and massages his nipples, gently pinching them. Rhys bends down and his tongue is hot on Duncan's skin as he licks and sucks on Duncan's nipples, biting at them with his fangs. He has never been so close to Duncan while Duncan wasn't shackled. The scent of Rhys' hair is in Duncan's nose, smokey sweet with a hint of some spice. Duncan wants to touch it, touch Rhys. He moves his hands the slightest bit until Rhys' skin ghosts over them. The touch leaves a tingle on his skin, a current running through him, coiling in his groin.

The fingernails trailing down his chest make him shiver. Duncan closes his eyes. His hands get pulled up with a rough tug on the chain between them. 

'We're not done.' Rhys still sounds cold, almost contemptuous. He lets the clamps snap shut on Duncan's nipples again. The short time Duncan has gotten to rest his arms has done nothing to make it easier holding them up and he pulls on the clamps. He flinches and pulls harder when Rhys steps behind him and squeezes his ass. 

There's the snick of a lube bottle, a clatter as it's put down again. Rhys' hand slips between Duncan's legs from behind and strokes his balls. Duncan tries not to moan and fails as a finger pushes into him. He has gotten used to that by now - or rather, his body has. It still is an intrusion, a violation, it makes him shudder. He holds on to that thought while Rhys steps closer, pulls Duncan to him with one arm around his waist. The finger pushes deeper while Rhys grinds his cock against Duncan. 

'Do you need more punishment?' Rhys nibbles Duncan's neck. Gently, barely pinching the skin between his teeth. But Duncan is painfully aware what his tusks and fangs can do. He has the scars to prove it.

If he says no, he's going to get fucked, Duncan knows it. But he's scared of what will happen when he says yes. What Rhys will do to him because surely it will be worse than the cane. And Duncan isn't sure he can take much more. 'Please, Sir, I don't.'

'And what makes you think you get to say no?' Rhys flicks the nipple clamps and Duncan yelps. 'Out of curiosity, what else do you have to offer to entertain me?'

'My ass, Sir, for your cock.' Duncan closes his eyes as he says it. He almost forgets the collar at times but right now it's a heavy weight around his neck, choking him.

'So you want me to fuck you?' Rhys' finger slides in and out of him, works him open. 'I think I'll have more fun seeing you in pain, but if you ask nicely, I might be convinced.'

There's no time to answer before Rhys opens one of the clamps, fingerfucks him hard through the pain until Duncan has stopped gasping for breath. Duncan squirms the tiniest bit, hoping to make Rhys' finger brush up against his prostate, to ease the pain. Just for the pain. Then the clamp gets reattached and Duncan has to clench his jaw to keep from crying out.

'I want to please you, Sir! Give me the chance to do that and I won't disappoint you again. Please, fuck me, I need your cock in my ass, I need to make you feel good.' The words are bitter, make him want to spit. Mostly because his cock stirs at the thought of Rhys bending him over and finally fucking him. He can't help but wonder how it would feel. If it would be better than the dildo, having Rhys inside him, all hot and-

'No. I don't think so. I think I'd rather see if I can get you to cry. You were pretty close already, weren't you. I want to see that.' Rhys pulls his finger out of Duncan and twists the clamp he has just reattached. 'Maybe we can find another place for these, too.'

'No!' Duncan bites his tongue. His cock tries to crawl into his body at the thought of having the clamps biting down on it. 'Please, let me at least suck your cock.'

'Hm.' Rhys steps away from him. The cane still is somewhere there and Duncan tenses up, waiting for its swish and bite.

Instead, a cushion lands at his feet. 

'Fine. I will give you a chance to show me what you have learned. Kneel. Open your mouth.' 

Duncan gets on his knees. Pain shoots through him as he sits, every inch of the skin on his ass and thighs on fire again. If there's skin left. The chain on his collar gives a little rattle as he shivers, attempts to even out his breathing. 

He tries to look just a bit scared as Rhys steps in front of him. A bit scared is good, Rhys likes that. But Duncan can't let him see just how terrified he really is. He will get a cock down his throat and he'll choke on it and it makes his breath hitch and his heart race. 

Rhys pushes in until Duncan gags, pulls back a little. Just enough that Duncan can stand it. 'You asked for this, see to it that you take me all the way. And so you know, one way or another you will swallow my cum. Either right away or you'll be licking it up from the floor.'

With Rhys' cock pressing down on his tongue, Duncan can only give a moan as an answer. He starts to lick and suck, swirling his tongue over the hot, silken skin. 

'I told you you were going to beg to get fucked. If you behave today, I might give you what you want.' Rhys is thrusting into him leisurely, in small movements, and Duncan thinks that he can do this. He raises his head to take Rhys deeper and tries to breathe slowly through his nose in time with their rhythm.

The second the cock nudges the back of his throat, he starts to panic. How is he supposed to take it all without suffocating?

Rhys answers the question for him, pushes in with a quick thrust until Duncan has swallowed him whole. It lasts only for a second but it's enough to leave Duncan gasping and retching, vision blurry with sudden tears. Rhys does it again, longer this time. Duncan holds his breath, a shiver running over him. He hates how it makes him choke, how much it brings home his helplessness.

His body disagrees. While Rhys fucks his mouth, Duncan's cock grows hard. Every time he is forced to take Rhys' entire length, the fear is mixed with a rush of arousal. 

'This feels so good, you're doing well,' Rhys purrs. He gives Duncan a break, lets him catch his breath and reaches out to caress his ear. 'Look at me.'

He holds Duncan's gaze and slides his cock back down Duncan's throat. Spit runs over Duncan's chin. He can't swallow, his lips and throat stretched around Rhys cock. 

Rhys starts to fuck Duncan's throat, keeping a steady rhythm. 'Pull off the clamps. You can touch your cock but you're not allowed to come.'

Duncan doesn't make the mistake of thinking this is not an order. He gives a sharp tug and the clamps almost come loose. There's the tiniest bit of skin still in their teeth and he winces, moans against the cock gagging him. 

Another pull and he's free. Rhys keeps still, only the tip of his cock in Duncan's mouth while Duncan rides out the pain. Tears streak Duncan's face and his nose is getting stuffy, a reaction to his gag reflex being triggered over and over again. He strokes his cock to help with the pain, pleasure spiking through him. 

Rhys thrusts into him faster now and Duncan does what he can to please him, but the pace doesn't allow for much more than keeping still and being used. Duncan's own heartbeat is loud in his ears, almost but not quite covering the wet squelching and slurping he produces as he tries to not drool all over himself. There's the clanking of chains in time with Rhys' thrusts and Duncan's movements as he strokes himself, attempting to drown out the panic with pleasure. He has almost made it when Rhys grabs the chain and puts pressure on the collar. He doesn't pull Duncan towards him, but keeps him from drawing back. The message is very clear. _You have no choice here. I own you._

And right now, it only excites Duncan more. He gives into the pressure until he's held with his nose buried in the hairs above Rhys' cock, no way to relieve the feeling of suffocating every time Rhys pushes down his throat again. It's what he _wants_ and every thrust into his mouth winds the coil in his groin tighter. Spit and precum drip on his chest, run down his stomach and on his hands. He smears it all over his cock. 

Rhys cries out, pulls on the chain as he makes a last few hard, long thrusts into Duncan. Cum spurts down Duncan's throat, runs hot over his tongue as Rhys moves back, lets go of the chain. Duncan can finally swallow, lick Rhys' cock clean. He chases the salty taste with his tongue while Rhys shudders through the aftershocks of his orgasm. Duncan is so close himself but he slows down, the promise of relief not enough to override the fear of punishment. 

Eventually, Rhys steps back and looks Duncan over. 'You're a mess.' He reaches for the cane and Duncan makes an involuntary noise of fear. But his cock is still hard and he just wants to come, no matter what Rhys will make him do for it.

'I guess it won't matter if you add your cum to the mess, if you need to. Do you need to?' Rhys taps Duncan's cock with the cane, a gentle touch to the tip that makes Duncan whimper.

'Yes, Sir, I need to come, please let me come, please-', Duncan can't stop himself from begging.

'Get on your hands and knees, put your ass up. I'll stop when you've made yourself come.' Rhys steps behind him again, a hand between Duncan's shoulder blades pushing him down when Duncan doesn't react fast enough. 'Go on, touch your cock.'

The chain between Duncan's wrists is _just_ long enough that he can put some of his weight on one hand while grasping his cock with the other. The cane hits his ass and sudden pain explodes in him. Duncan cries out and ruts into his fist, desperate to come. He is so close but with Rhys mercilessly caning him, the balance tips in the wrong direction. Urgently, he strokes himself faster and imagines Rhys fucking him. Rhys' cock in his ass, filling him up. 

Rhys taking what is his.

It's enough to push him over the edge. His cum splatters on the floor, streaks his stomach while he shudders and gasps for breath. One last slash across his thighs makes him flinch but he's suddenly too exhausted to react much more than that.

The moment his orgasm ebbs, shame comes flooding in. He stays on all fours, head down. Looking at Rhys is too much right now. He cannot believe how he had lost control. How he had _given up_ control. How much he had wanted to come, had _needed_ it. Not just because of the pain. He should have been able to just deal with the pain without turning into a begging, shivering wreck. But he also had wanted Rhys to touch him, to fuck him, so badly. The memory makes him cringe.

Rhys' fingers skim Duncan's spine, ruffle through his hair. 'You did very well. I'm pleased with you. You'll get a reward next time.'

'Thank you, Sir.' Duncan still can't look up, he only just manages to get the words out. His voice is thick and raw, his nose stuffy, his jaw aching.

The tears come as a surprise. Duncan tries to take a deep breath that turns into a sob instead. Before he knows it, he's sitting, head down, hands in his lap, crying so hard he can barely breathe. He wants to be out of the restraints, right now, wants to have all the cum and spit off of his skin. The smell and the itch as it slowly trickles down his body makes him squirm. He's trapped by the pressure of the collar and the weight of the chain.

'Let me take these off, okay?' Rhys opens the leather cuffs around Duncan's wrists, then takes off the collar and pushes all of it under the bed. Now that he can move freely, Duncan pulls his knees up, hugs them to his chest and hides his face behind his arms. 

Rhys sits next to him and puts a hand on the back of Duncan's neck. 'What's wrong? Please talk to me?' 

The sobs shake Duncan's whole body and he can't even begin to tell Rhys why he's crying. Even if he did have the words for it. He just knows how awful he feels, how ashamed. His skin is too tight and he wants to claw at it. 

Sitting _hurts_. The pain means he cannot forget what just happened, it reminds him constantly and he hates it. He is trapped in his own mind with the memory of what he just did, how he humiliated himself, how much he revealed. It shouldn't bother him, he knows that, but it does and he cannot explain why.

Rhys is still talking to him, he realises, and sounding scared. Duncan wants to comfort him but he has no breath for words. He blindly reaches for Rhys and his hand is grabbed and held so tightly it's uncomfortable but he doesn't mind.  
  


* * *

They sit like this until Duncan calms down, mainly because he is too worn out to cry any longer. He leans into Rhys, a heavy but welcome weight in Rhys' arms. 'I'm sorry. I don't know what's wrong.'

'Can you stand up? I think a shower might make you feel better?' Rhys plants a kiss on Duncan's temple and pulls him to his feet. A look at Duncan's aura reveals drained colours coated by grey and he stands with his head bowed and slumped shoulders. It takes all of Rhys' self-control not to ask more questions, he can guess that Duncan has no answers right now. So he takes him to the bathroom, climbs into the tub with him and washes him. Duncan just lets everything happen, turns when Rhys asks him to, allows himself be touched, climbs out of the tub again, lets himself get dried off. He never once looks at Rhys.

Duncan crawls into bed with a long weary sigh. The welts on his skin are deep red and swollen and he moves gingerly, turns on his stomach almost immediately. Rhys hesitates and wishes he had held back. It had been so tempting to push harder and harder. Duncan's ability to take vicious punishment and his desire to please had been too much to resist for Rhys. Regret twists his guts. 'Do you want me to heal you?' Rhys hunkers down in front of the bed.

...yes. No. Fuck, I don't know.' Duncan finally turns his head and looks at Rhys. He tries a little smile and Rhys wants to cry. 'Can you just hold me a bit? I think I need that.'

'Sure.' Rhys lies down next to Duncan and scoots closer, runs his palm down Duncan's back, careful not to touch the welts. He props himself up on one elbow and Duncan nestles into him.

There's silence for a bit. When Duncan speaks, Rhys can barely understand him, voice muffled against his chest.'I didn't want to scare you. It was just suddenly all too much. I was really into this and enjoying myself and then I- broke. My, I don't know, character? He broke, I mean and that's fine because he's meant to? But I couldn't keep us apart, I couldn't get my head out of his thoughts.'

'Did I push too hard?' Rhys gently pets Duncan's back.

'No. No, I enjoyed every second of this until I didn't. It was what I wanted.' Duncan rolls over and grimaces when he comes to lie on his back, puts pressure on the cane slashes. 'I feel ... good, actually? Tired. But the kind of tired you are when you did a heavy workout. I like it. I'm just sorry I scared you.'

Rhys bends down and kisses Duncan. 'Don't be, it's okay. Do you want to talk about where we go from here? Can we do something different so it doesn't happen again or do you _want_ it to happen again?'

'Do I want-' Duncan is visibly taken aback and thinks about it. While he does, Rhys traces circles on his chest, patiently waiting for an answer. 'I think it will happen again if we keep this up. I don't know how I feel about that?' Stretching out, Duncan gives a little hiss. 'Fuck, that hurts.'

Rhys can't keep a quick grin from his face. Duncan's tone is already much more his normal after-play grouching than any real complaint. 'I can tell you how I feel about that: I don't see it as a bad sign. It's not something I want to _push_ you into on purpose, despite what I said in the scene. But we are playing with you giving up control. Maybe you can keep your distance next time, maybe not. But as long as you feel comfortable with it, I think we can let it happen.'

'I can't decide right now. I need to sleep on this. I need to sleep, period.' Duncan yawns and hugs Rhys again, nestles into his arms. 

Rhys pulls the covers over them and decides that cleaning up can wait until tomorrow. If he's honest, he is just as tired as Duncan, worn out by the intense scene and its aftermath.

'Please, tell me the truth: is there _any_ skin left on my ass?' Duncan's voice is muffled by the blanket.

Rhys grins at his mock-dramatic tone. 'No. There is not. Go to sleep, love.'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta read by [Raunchyandpaunchy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/raunchyandpaunchy/pseuds/raunchyandpaunchy) \- thank you!
> 
> Title from [Call Out My Name](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HDKEKystVM8) by Inkubus Sukkubus
> 
> CONTENT INFO: caning, verbal humiliation, blow job, sub drop (a little)


	5. Undisturbed By Shame

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Duncan will have to beg to be allowed to come soon, but the words are stuck in his throat. Trapped by the realisation that he might never escape. That this might be his life from now on. That he is Rhys' possession. A thing Rhys saw, wanted and had delivered to him, to play and do with as he pleases. Until he gets tired of it._  
>  A moment of rebellion.
> 
> Content info in the AN

Duncan shifts and tries to get comfortable. On his back, his wrists tied to his ankles, a short chain on his collar and blindfolded, he's exposed and vulnerable, Not unlike the first time he woke up in this bed.

But now, a part of him is looking forward to what will happen next. The part that enjoys having a plug in his ass. The part that wants to get fucked.

He flinches at the hand touching his thigh and rattles the chain. 

'No need to be nervous. I won't hurt you. You did so well last time, you deserve this.' Rhys' voice is as gentle as his touch, slender fingers wandering up Duncan's chest and softly caressing his nipples. 

The mattress dips when Rhys gets on the bed, sits between Duncan's legs. He casually lifts Duncan's balls out of the way to check on the plug. Inspecting his property. His fingertips skim over the delicate skin of Duncan's inner thigh.

Duncan moans. The bruises from the caning are still there and so is the shame at how he acted. He tells himself that this needs to be done, it's one step closer to escaping. That he doesn't really want it. 

But he also thrusts into Rhys' hand when it closes around his cock. Rhys lets him, strokes Duncan's cock until it starts to grow hard. He leans forward, pushing Duncan's legs further apart and takes him into his mouth. Duncan arches his back with a choked cry. He keens when Rhys' tongue traces the head of his cock, pushes into the slit, fucks into it. Rhys' hands grasp his hips, holding him down.

With a last lick along the length of his cock, Rhys lets him go, slowly pulls the plug halfway out, pushes it back in again. 'Do you want me to take it out?'

'Yes, Sir.' A shiver runs over Duncan. He has imagined this moment over and over again for the last few weeks. 

Rhys removes the blindfold, tossing it on the floor before sitting back and lightly strokes Duncan's cock. 'Tell me what you want me to do to you. Ask me for it.' 

'I-'

Duncan doesn't get any further before Rhys interrupts him, his tone sharp. 'I didn't take the blindfold off of you so you could turn away. Look at me when you speak to me. Or is that another habit I have to break you of?'

'No, Sir!' Duncan forces himself to hold Rhys' gaze despite the thrill of fear at the anger he sees in his eyes. 'Please, I want you to take the plug out of my ass and fuck me.'

Rhys is still frowning. 'Try again.'

Duncan swallows. He doesn't know what he did wrong and it's hard to think with Rhys staring at him, rapidly losing patience. 'Please, take the plug out of my ass. I need to have your cock in me. Fuck me until you come, use me for your pleasure!'

That gets a smile and Duncan is pathetically grateful for it. Still watching him, Rhys frees Duncan of the plug and immediately pushes two fingers in. He lightly brushes Duncan's prostate, again and again. Every touch sets fire to Duncan's spine, makes him curl his toes and arch his neck. His fingers dig into his own skin, clawing at his calves. Rhys doesn't stop until he has reduced Duncan to a shuddering, moaning mess, precum forming a little puddle on his stomach. 

Duncan whines when Rhys pulls his fingers out, raises his hips as best as he can, silently begging for more. Maybe Rhys will allow him to come? He doesn't dare ask for it, not yet. But he risks another question. 

'Please, Sir, may I touch you?'

It makes Rhys stop, his cock pressed against Duncan's entrance. He gives Duncan a long look, his eyes unfocused. Magic prickles on Duncan's skin and he holds his breath, afraid of what Rhys might see. His request is honest, he just wants to caress Rhys, is desperately hungry for it. 

Rhys unshackles Duncan's left hand and leans forward until he is kneeling over Duncan, forcing his legs apart. It puts a painful strain on Duncan's muscles, but he is distracted by soft skin under his palm. Running his hand up Rhys' side, the faint lines of the tattoos map themselves in his brain like braille. A flowering vine, moths and a spider. Duncan has memorised them, along with all the others. He takes only the softest of breaths, not wanting to disturb Rhys who enjoys the touch with his eyes closed, biting his lip. 

Fingers ghost over Duncan's jaw and cheekbones, his ear. Rhys catches Duncan's gaze, his eyes dark, pupils blown wide. Suddenly, Duncan is scared again. The way Rhys looks at him is too full of possessive lust and the knowledge of power. For a short time, Duncan had forgotten his helplessness but now it catches up with him in a wave of sickly fear.

It's the exact moment Rhys chooses to push his cock into Duncan in one slow, steady movement. Duncan cries out and cannot tell if it's with lust or fear or both. It's different than getting fucked with the dildo. Rhys' cock is harder, warm and slightly curved in a way the dildo isn't. 

Duncan bucks until he's held down by Rhys' weight, Rhys' cock buried deep inside of him. He can't catch his breath and Rhys doesn't give him time. Moving only his hips, he starts to fuck Duncan. His cock is longer than what Duncan has been trained to take. It makes every thrust that much more intense. 

Clutching at Rhys with his free hand, Duncan whimpers every time Rhys' length fills him. When Rhys stays still between thrusts, his cock pulses inside of Duncan, pushing against his muscles just the tiniest bit. Rhys nuzzles his neck, his breath loud in Duncan's ear. There's a sharp pain when he nips at Duncan's skin. 'You feel so good. I knew you were perfect for me the moment I saw you. I had to have you.'

With Rhys' cock hitting the right spot, Duncan can only moan. His own cock is squeezed between their bodies. Rhys props himself up, reaches for Duncan's cock, fingers gliding over the tip. 'I want to hear you. Don't hold back, I like how my cock makes you moan. You're such a slut for it, you can't help yourself.' 

Duncan will have to beg to be allowed to come soon, but the words are stuck in his throat. Trapped by the realisation that he might never escape. That this might be his life from now on. That he is Rhys' _possession_. A thing Rhys saw, wanted and had delivered to him, to play and do with as he pleases. Until he gets tired of it. And then he'll throw his toy away without a second thought. Duncan isn't going to wait for that to happen.

His hand sneaks up to Rhys' neck, slips around the throat to squeeze. 

Rhys grabs Duncan's wrist. 'Don't you dare touch me like that!' He slams the hand down right next to Duncan's head, his grip so hard it grinds the bones in Duncan's wrist together. His snarl shows tusks and fangs sharp enough to tear Duncan's throat out, his nails drawing blood.

Duncan freezes.

They stare at each other for a second. Duncan wide-eyed and fearful, Rhys' expression unreadable past the anger. He holds his breath, doesn't dare to even blink. 

Rhys softly touches Duncan's face and Duncan leans into the touch, closes his eyes. Invites Rhys to continue.

He cries out when Rhys almost slips out of him, then drives back in again with one brutal thrust. The short moment of rebellion is over and he has no defense left. Rhys takes what he wants from him, with much more force than he needs, ruthlessly chasing his pleasure. Duncan's last shred of control slips out of his grasp.

'Please, let me come-' He almost sobs, hates himself for begging, but he's too afraid of punishment not to. And too overstimulated to stop it, his body betraying him yet again. 'Please, Sir, I need it!'

'Then come-' Rhys gasps out the words and Duncan gives up. He bucks, pushing against Rhys. A last hard thrust and Rhys finishes, hot cum spurting into Duncan. He muffles a cry against Duncan's neck, fangs cutting into the skin right over the jugular. For a second, Duncan is sure Rhys is going to bite down. It's what makes him come, being so utterly at Rhys' mercy. He ruts against Rhys, desperate to be done, until cum spreads on his stomach, his cock painfully sensitive to the pressure of Rhys' weight.

Riding out the aftershocks of his orgasm, Rhys lets go of Duncan's wrist, no longer bites him. He's heavy on top of Duncan. But Duncan doesn't move except for involuntary twitches and spasms. Fear paralyses him, sours the rapidly fading pleasure. He wants to turn away, push Rhys off, but doesn't dare to. 

Rhys is the first to catch his breath, sits up. He idly fondles Duncan's balls, making him whimper. 'I don't know why you keep fighting me. And yourself. I can see you want this. You could have a better life with me than you could ever have on your own if you only accept that you're mine.' He puts a finger to Duncan's lips. 'No. Don't say anything. I enjoyed having you, don't spoil it.'

Duncan can't read Rhys' tone at all but at least he doesn't threaten punishment. That's enough to make Duncan giddy with relief. He's left alone with his thoughts, cum leaking out of his ass and running down his sides in a cold trail. Used and discarded, for now. He hopes it's just for now. 

Hope is a mistake. It's a weapon Rhys uses against him. Yet Duncan can't help cutting himself to pieces with it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title from [Prince of Shadows](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HiVgr8Fe3cA) by Inkubus Sukkubus
> 
> Beta read by [Raunchyandpaunchy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/raunchyandpaunchy/pseuds/raunchyandpaunchy) \- thank you!
> 
> CONTENT INFO: ...errr, really fucked up relationship dynamics in the scene?, to the surprise of no-one. Fearplay is probably the best word for it. Also verbal humiliation and anal sex.


	6. Kiss of Pure Steel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _The knife rests lightly on his breastbone. Rhys keeps it very still and Duncan takes only shallow breaths._  
>  _'I find it hard to trust people myself. But when I saw you, I thought we could have something. Was I wrong about that?' There's a pleading look in Rhys' eyes. Fear of being rejected and Duncan knows that feeling only too well._  
>  _'-no.' His voice is barely audible._  
>   
>  Knives and gaslighting, both cutting deeply into Duncan's defenses.
> 
> Content info in the AN

'Do you want to talk about where we stand right now? After last time - you had that little moment of rebellion and I think I'd let you feel my anger at that even when I didn't say so last time.' Rhys fits the collar around Duncan's neck, gives the ring a little tug.

Duncan sits on the bed in front of him, hands on Rhys' hips. 'You're my only human contact and you took that away from me? Left me locked in here with some food and water and didn't come back for, I don't know, a week? At this point, I'm desperate for any word from you and I'm fucking scared you won't come back or just get rid of me. That's a good point to set this scene in, I think?'

Rhys grins, obviously pleased with the idea. 'Time to show you who is in control. Again.' He hesitates, fingers scritching Duncan's scalp. 'Have you ever done knife play?'

'Knife-' The thought is both scary and exciting. 'No. I haven't. I'm not sure it's my thing, but we can try. I was so scared you'd just kill me last time and it turned me on, so yeah, knife play might work.' He fumbles with his words, struggles to express his thoughts. 

Rhys starts undressing him, unbuttons Duncan's shirt. 'We'll give it a try. I'll probably cut you and heal you during the scene, is that okay?'

'Sure.' Duncan stands up to get rid of his pants. Rhys helps and takes the opportunity to run his palms all over Duncan's legs and arms, just close enough to touch the little hairs and barely the skin. It makes Duncan shake himself involuntarily and Rhys finishes with a kiss and a gentle bite to his lip. 

Duncan's down to a t-shirt and underwear. Rhys smoothes the shirt down: 'Can I cut that apart? And the shorts?' When Duncan nods, Rhys cuffs Duncan's hands in front of him, using broad leather restraints. He leads him to the wall and chains the cuffs to a hook high up. It holds Duncan's hands above his head and the chain is so short that he has to stretch the smallest bit. It's easy now, but he knows it won't stay that way. 

'I'm going to leave you alone for a second, we start when I come back.' Rhys gives him another kiss and walks out of the room.

Duncan takes deep breaths. Rhys hasn't said a word to him. As relieved as Duncan is at seeing him again after being left on his own for a week, he can tell Rhys is angry, in that cold way of his. He hadn't resisted when he'd been cuffed and dragged into this position, hadn't dared to make Rhys even more angry. If he wants to punish Duncan, that means he's not tired of him.

He has been allowed clothes for the first time since getting taken captive. Just a shirt and boxers but it makes him feel a lot better. A small pile of them had appeared a couple of days ago, brought in overnight, Duncan not noticing until morning. He had hesitated to put them on, was afraid of not having permission. But he finally figured that if the clothes were there, that meant Rhys wanted him to wear them.

Rhys comes back into the room. He doesn't look at Duncan while he puts a small table next to him and a bundle of cloth on top of it. Duncan wants to apologise badly but he keeps silent. It would only make things worse for him.

Rhys turns to him and now he _does_ look at Duncan. Looks him up and down, appraising him. 'What were you thinking.'

It's not so much a question as it is Rhys talking to himself in a soft, wistful tone. He lifts a hand to Duncan's face, caressing him, tracing his cheekbones, running his thumb over Duncan's lips. His expression is as soft as his voice.

The slap whips Duncan's head around. His cheek burns but the humiliation and shock burn much hotter. He gasps, keeps his head turned and his eyes closed. Rage mixes with the shock and he has to take deep breaths to calm himself. 

Rhys gives him the time he needs, waits until Duncan opens his eyes again. 'Are you okay?' The familiar lilt of his voice soothes Duncan's anger.

'Yeah, I'm fine. Maybe don't do it again right now.' His cock disagrees.

'I won't.' A short pause. 'Tell me what you were thinking. You must have known that you couldn't kill me. Do you want to get away from me this badly?' The clipped accent is back but Rhys sounds almost sad.

Duncan _remembers_ why he tried to choke Rhys but he doesn't understand himself any more. Rhys only keeps him captive like this because Duncan has given him no reason to trust him. And he does take care of him. 

'I'm sorry. I got scared. I'm not used to letting anyone get this close to me. Not like this.' He can't look up to meet Rhys' eyes.

'I can understand that. I had hoped we were past this at this point but I can see why it is hard for you, too.' Rhys touches Duncan's face again, just a quick brush with cool fingers against his cheek. Then he turns and unwraps the bundle of cloth on the table. The knife inside is Duncan's own. Rhys must have taken it from him when he was first brought here. It's wickedly sharp and Duncan can't look away from it. He sucks in a sharp breath when Rhys picks it up and sets the blade against Duncan's chest.

The knife rests lightly on his breastbone. Rhys keeps it very still and Duncan takes only shallow breaths.

'I find it hard to trust people myself. But when I saw you, I thought we could have something. Was I wrong about that?' There's a pleading look in Rhys' eyes. Fear of being rejected and Duncan knows that feeling only too well.

'-no.' His voice is barely audible.

Rhys' smile is sad. 'And yet you fight me.' He takes the knife away, only to start cutting Duncan's shirt off his body. The blade whispers through the fabric until the shirt falls to the ground in pieces. 

'It hurts me to see you resist. You have no reason to, you said it yourself.' Again, Rhys lets the knife rest on Duncan's chest. The blade is cool against Duncan's skin. 'To tell you the truth, I am lonely.'

The tip of the knife drags down Duncan's chest and stomach. It doesn't cut but leaves a burning trail of scraped skin.

'I want you to stay with me but I can't trust you not to leave.' With a flick of Rhys' wrist, the knife slices into Duncan. It's a shallow cut on his stomach. There's blood before there's pain, running hot over his skin. When it comes, the pain is sharp and silvery, like the blade.

'I don't want to be angry with you. It's not easy.' Rhys' free hand slides over Duncan's sides, his chest; fingertips tracing Duncan's nipples. He keeps his eyes on the knife, seems to be talking to himself more than to Duncan. The blade comes to rest on Duncan's breastbone again and this time, it cuts.

'Why do you make things so hard for us?' Rhys takes the knife away and steps back. Blood runs down Duncan's chest in a slow trickle and he can't look away. Not until Rhys grabs his chin and forces his head up. 'I _asked_ you something!'

His tone cuts deeper than the knife, the sudden anger enough to make Duncan whimper.

'I'm sorry! I'm trying, I swear.' The knife is still in Rhys' hand and he brings it up, blade forward. It doesn't touch Duncan but he hurries to explain himself, sweating with fear. 'I _want_ this, but it's hard. Going against all these years of trusting no one.'

He forces himself to hold Rhys' gaze. It helps that he is telling the truth, as much as he hates it.

Rhys lets go of him, puts his hand on Duncan's side and leans into him. The knife is behind his back. He stays still for a while, his head against Duncan's shoulder. 

'I expected too much of you, and too soon.' He gently pets Duncan while he speaks, nestles into him. 'You need to remember that I'm not like everyone else. I _want_ you. Do you think you can remember that?' He raises his head and there's that pleading look in his eyes again.

Duncan swallows. 'I think I can.' People have been abandoning him his whole life. Being wanted is not something he is used to. Hearing Rhys say it like this, seeing him lay bare his soul for Duncan is too much to resist. He wants to kiss Rhys, make him feel better. Reassure him, apologise for making things difficult. And without thinking, he does.

Rhys answers the kiss. He doesn't push and it's just a kiss on the lips, over almost before it started, but the clear delight on Rhys' face makes Duncan smile. He jumps when Rhys slips a hand between his legs and palms his cock.

'I'm glad we talked about this. That we can be honest with each other.' Rhys brings up the knife. There's blood on his clothes from leaning against Duncan, dark stains on his once immaculate white shirt. 'Keep still.'

Duncan doesn't even breathe as Rhys starts to cut away his boxers. They fall after a few quick cuts. The flat side of the blade presses against the length of his hard cock, cold and smooth. A heartbeat later, Rhys takes the knife away and Duncan sucks in air. Another cut makes him gasp, this one on his arm, slicing the tender skin over his armpit.

The blood trickling from it is astonishingly hot and Rhys drags the tip of the knife through the trail. He keeps doing it, traces the muscles of Duncan's arms with it. Not hard enough to break the skin but little bruises bloom in its wake and it hurts. The pain from the cuts is sharp and unpleasant, but quick. This is a burning, warm pain that spreads all over his arms, biting deep.

It's what he deserves. The next time Rhys holds the blade to his arm, Duncan leans into it, cuts himself on it. He does it again and again until there's a pattern of cuts on his arms and down his side. Rhys rewards him by stroking his cock between cuts. Every time he has Duncan moaning and thrusting into his hand, he stops and offers the knife again for Duncan to hurt himself. Pain and pleasure start to blend and Duncan relishes the knife slicing into his flesh as much as Rhys' hand on his cock. Being allowed to punish himself makes Duncan proud, all the trust Rhys puts into him, the control he lets him have.

Rhys drops the knife on the table and starts stroking Duncan's cock fast and hard while running his hand over the cuts, smearing the blood with his palm. The pain makes Duncan scream. It's like Rhys has set him on fire. But there's already so much pleasure coiled in his groin that it only adds to his lust and he comes, rutting wildly into Rhys' fist. Rhys holds him, pulls him close and doesn't seem to mind the blood and cum ruining his shirt. Duncan leans into him, his breath hitching. He's exhausted and he lets the shackles hold him, slumps bonelessly against Rhys.

Rhys gently pushes his head up and gives him a long kiss. 'You did so well.' Magic flows from his hands into Duncan, a steady prickling current sinking into his skin. The cuts heal and Duncan is almost sorry, but he gladly lets Rhys take care of him. The pain ebbs away, leaving only the soft, warm afterglow of his orgasm. He feels safe.  
  


* * *

  
  
'Did you practice that?' Duncan nestles into Rhys, both of them sprawled on the bed. After a shower, he's even more tired but it's a pleasant, heavy sleepiness. 

'The knife or what I said? Up to a point, both. I practiced with the knife on myself a bit - I've done knife play before but never with a combat knife. And I never cut anyone this badly.' Rhys traces the red lines of the healed wounds on Duncan's side and arms. There's just the faintest memory of pain when he does it. 'And what I said - I had this idea of where I wanted to go, but it wasn't planned or anything.' He grins, then laughs out loud. 'I had so much fun, pushing all your buttons.'

'You know what button you can push harder? The _other people don't want you_ button.' Duncan speaks slowly, testing the waters in his mind. 'That one is the weak point.'

'Are you sure? I actually thought you'd stop the scene right there. I regretted that the moment I said it because it bleeds a bit too much into real life? It obviously worked really well right now, but we don't need to include it if you don't want.' Rhys has gone serious.

'Yeah, I'm sure. It's close but not too close. Not any more.' Duncan gives Rhys a reassuring smile, curls a few strands of Rhys' hair around his fingers. 'This is so incredibly fucked up. But it makes so much _sense_. I mean, in the scene it does. I don't know, I'll - he'll probably come to his senses a little bit, but you broke me hard and good just now.' 

He pushes his nose into the crook of Rhys' neck, breathes in the scent of his skin. 'Please don't ever hand me the knife when I'm like this. I think I'd cut too deep. I got... lost there for a while. I like that, don't get me wrong, but the thought of having a knife and being asked to punish myself for you- Let's not go there.'

Rhys nods. 'Let's not. Can I play with the whole idea of you punishing yourself for me? I don't know how yet, but with something not quite as drastic as a knife. Like we did with the nettles, maybe.'

'Oh fuck no.' Duncan groans. 'I should have just kept my mouth shut, you don't need any more inspiration from me.' But he grins when he rolls on top of Rhys and kisses him. 'Yeah, we can do that. I'm already scared what you'll come up with.'

Rhys hugs him, gives his lip a gentle bite. 'And you should be.'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title from Inkubus Sukkubus' [Love Spell](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ecm5NSlC53I)
> 
> Beta read by [Raunchyandpaunchy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/raunchyandpaunchy/pseuds/raunchyandpaunchy)
> 
> CONTENT INFO: knife play, cutting, self harm, gaslighting


	7. Slake My Thirst

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Duncan unwraps the packages and blinks at the collection of toys. At least Rhys has been kind enough to include the instructions because Duncan isn't all that familiar with using toys on himself._  
>  Duncan gets to enjoy himself.

Duncan opens the package Rhys had given him before leaving on a work trip. 'It's homework, so you don't get bored when I'm not around.' Rhys' grin had been ominous.

Inside are more packages, each loosely wrapped in soft tissue, and a letter in Rhys' copperplate handwriting. 

_Have fun playing with these. I want you to try each of them, one at a time. No need to get greedy. You can tell me all about it when I get back._  
_P.S.: You're allowed two orgasms._

A quick count: there are five packages. He has two weeks. This is going to be _hard_. Not unlike his cock right now. 

Duncan unwraps the packages and blinks at the collection of toys. At least Rhys has been kind enough to include the instructions because Duncan isn't all that familiar with using toys on himself. Or even spending a lot of time on fantasies. He knows what works for him and he's always been pretty content to leave it at that. 

He pokes at the strangely shaped item the manual declares to be a prostate massager. It's not like he is unaware that this stuff exists. He's just never bothered to explore. Buying toys for himself had always seemed... -frivolous. Duncan doesn't do frivolous. 

Until now.  
  


~ ~ ~ ~ ~ 

  
  
Twelve days, four toys and two orgasms later, Duncan is a bit apprehensive as he unwraps the fifth package. He has left it for last because he thinks that he'll manage easily to play with this without coming. The stroker doesn't look particularly exciting. It would definitely add to his sexual frustration though - he still doesn't deal well with edging himself and Rhys knows it.

Duncan has taken to wearing the collar for these sessions and puts it on now. It wasn't part of the instructions but he likes the mindspace it creates for him. Kneeling on the bed, naked except for the collar, he takes a minute to build upon it. With a deep breath, he closes his eyes and lets the Captive take over. The version of him that has been abducted and taken prisoner and is slowly losing himself. Who has his will broken by gentle manipulation and harsh punishment until he's looking forward to both. 

He has been left alone but unlike last time, Rhys has told him that he would be away and when he would be back. It's still hard to be on his own all the time but it's a lot easier without the uncertainty. And Rhys has given him something to do. A way to train himself, to make sure he has better self-control and composure. 

Running a hand over his chest, he softly pinches at his nipples. His fingertips trail down to his stomach and through the hairs there. The other keeps a loose hold on the collar's ring, putting pressure on it. 

His cock is already half-hard and Duncan can't help but give a needy whine when he touches it.

He lets go of the ring on his collar to spread lube on himself. It rests heavily on his breastbone, a reminder that he isn't doing this for his own pleasure. Still, he cannot resist fondling himself a bit, just the way he likes it best, fingers grasping the shaft, thumb stroking the head.

After some fumbling, Duncan decides to flip the stroker inside out, like the manual said he could, to use the side with the bigger ribs and studs. Getting it in place requires some more lube. He bites back a moan when the tip of his cock pushes through, out the other end. It feels exactly right. Fuck. This is doing a lot more for him than he thought it would.

The toy wraps around his shaft, just tight enough, just the way he would grip it. A few tentative movements help Duncan figure out how this works best for him, slowly moving it up and down. He shivers and moans again, quietly. 

A hard tug on the collar. _Don't you dare come. Keep it together._ Sure, he could stop now. But that would be playing it safe and he knows perfectly well that this is not what Rhys wants. So he continues, one hand moving the stroker, the other drifting down his chest and stomach until it cradles his balls, squeezing and tugging gently. 

Eyes closed, he imagines Rhys watching him. He has never been able to figure out if he truly has privacy in this room. When he had first been allowed to explore it, he had looked for cameras but hadn't found any. Not that this would be the only way for Rhys to keep an eye on him. It used to bother him. Now, he would like Rhys to see. 

He lies down, on his back, legs pulled up and spread wide. One hand searches for Rhys' shirt he keeps under the pillow, for the comfort of its smell, and moves it closer. Rhys' scent is immediately strong in his nose and he shivers, his hand returning to fondling his balls while he slowly fucks into the stroker.

The ridges glide over his cock, squeezing and massaging it. He gives it a little twist when he pulls back and can't help but cry out as pleasure makes his muscles twitch. _Just a little more..._ He can't resist, picks up the pace, thrusting upwards into the toy, his fingers circling and rubbing the head of his cock.

Rhys hasn't said what he will do if Duncan doesn't follow his instructions. And Duncan wants to please him, doesn't need the fear of punishment to motivate him. He wants Rhys' cock in his ass again, to be allowed to touch him, to share a kiss. Maybe he'll get it after this. 

He opens his legs wider, imagines Rhys climbing on the bed to fuck him. Fingers in his ass, spreading him open or maybe Rhys will just push his cock in. Duncan's used to taking a plug or dildo without preparation except lube by now, he could take Rhys' cock without getting fingered first. He can't decide what would be better. 

Rhys' smell mixes with the scent of his own sweat and precum and the coil of pleasure in Duncan's groin winds painfully tight. He rolls over onto his knees and arm, face buried in the shirt, rutting into the stroker in hard thrusts. _This_ would be perfect, Rhys taking him from behind, one hand on Duncan's cock. 

All at once, the coil unwinds and he comes, muscles shuddering, hips pistoning forward. Cum splatters onto the bed sheets, on his chest, drips from between his fingers. Gasping for breath, he collapses on his side and curls up with a whimper.

Dread creeps up on him and extinguishes the warm glow of bliss left by his orgasm. _Fuck._ This is bad and he wishes very hard that he could turn back time just a minute or two. Before his brain took a leave of absence and left his cock in charge.

He winces when he pulls off the stroker, the cooling sweat on his skin making him shiver. Rolling off the bed, he gathers up the whole bed sheet, wipes himself down and slinks to the bathroom with it to put it into the washing machine. Covering up the crime scene. 

Not that it would be of any use. Lying to Rhys would be even more of a mistake. Duncan can't lie to him worth one bit. Not about this. He will need all his energy on not letting Rhys see that he has recovered some of his will to escape. At least for now. If it survives seeing Rhys again is another question - it's easier keeping his head when he's all alone.

He _needs_ Rhys. He's the only person in Duncan's life who truly wants him around. But he also wants to be able to decide whether he stays or goes. Maybe, if he escapes, he can do this on his own terms, let Rhys know he still wants to be with him. Just not like this.

In the shower, the water washes away the last of the fantasy. Duncan takes the time to shut off his thoughts while he scrubs himself down and cleans the toy. The water is as hot as he can stand it, chasing off the dread and leaving only a pleasant weariness deep in his bones. The dread will be back soon enough, when they play next time, and Duncan's looking forward to it.

Drying himself with the fluffiest towel he can find, he can't help but laugh at how elaborate the whole fantasy is growing to be and how much he can lose himself in it. How much he enjoyed using the toys, despite his doubts. It seems he does do frivolous after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title from [Take My Hunger](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Oesz6G2ZEmU) by Inkubus Sukkubus.
> 
> Beta read by [Raunchyandpaunchy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/raunchyandpaunchy/pseuds/raunchyandpaunchy) \- thank you!


	8. No Pleasure Be Denied Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _'Stop? Why? You wanted to come, so much so that you went against my wishes. I'm just giving you what you want. This once.' Rhys sounds honestly baffled but an amused smile curls his lips, reveals the tips of his fangs._  
>  Duncan gets to come. He does not get to stop.

"Did you try all the toys I left for you?" Rhys is sprawled in his armchair, one leg over the armrest, idly toying with his braid.

Duncan kneels in front of him, hands on his thighs. He's fully clothed and collared but he might just as well be naked for how exposed he feels. 'Yes. I did.'

'How many times did you come?' There's a hint of malice in the tone of the question.

'Three times. I'm sorry, Sir-,' Duncan wants to say more but Rhys cuts him off with a glance.

'Remind me, how many orgasms did I allow you?' 

Duncan isn't fooled by Rhys' calm voice, this is bad. 'Two, Sir.'

'I see.' Rhys gets up and walks a circle around Duncan, running fingers through his mohawk. 'Get up. Undress.' He sits back down and watches. 

Naked, with his clothes folded in a neat pile next to him, Duncan stands with his hands behind his back and his head bowed. Despite the dread sitting cold in his gut, his cock perks up and betrays him even further. 

Without a word, Rhys leads him to the bed with a finger hooked into the collar ring and gives him a light push to the chest. Duncan kneels on the bed, facing Rhys but still doesn't dare to look at him. 

Rhys cups Duncan's face in his hand, tenderly caresses his cheek and ear. Magic prickles on Duncan's skin, sinks into him and spreads all through his body, leaving a heavy warmth in his limbs.

'Touch yourself. Not your cock.' Rhys returns to his armchair and settles down with a good view of Duncan.

The first touch, fingertips trailing over his chest, makes Duncan flinch and yelp. It's a shock of pleasure, running hot over his body and pooling in his groin. His cock is immediately hard.

Rhys gives a contented hum. 'That's what I thought. You're just too much of a slut to control yourself, aren't you?'

'I-' Duncan doesn't know what to say. There's no right answer to the question. He drops his hand to his thigh and yelps again at the next wave of pleasure, just from this casual contact. 'Yes, Sir.'

'Go on, keep going. I didn't say you could stop. We will worry about teaching you self-control another day.' He waves for Duncan to continue. 'I didn't think you were this needy. Tell me, did you fantasise about us while you were alone?'

The slightest touch is enough to make Duncan gasp and his cock is aching for release. It's hard to find words while he runs his palm over his stomach, up to his chest, over his nipples. He can smell himself, precum glistening on the swollen head of his cock. 

'Yes, Sir.' A blush races from his chest to his face, burning on his cheeks. 'I thought about you-- Fucking me. Taking-- me. From --behind.' Duncan forces the words out between whimpers of pleasure.

Rhys gets up and walks to the bed. 'Look at me.' He holds Duncan's gaze. 'Did it make you come?' 

When Duncan opens his mouth to answer, Rhys grabs the tip of his cock and squeezes. Duncan comes with a loud yelp - it's so sudden that it takes his breath away. He thrusts upward into Rhys' hand reflexively. His hands claw at his own skin with the painful intensity of the orgasm, leaving red marks. It only adds to the pleasure.

Rhys lets go with a smile, smears cum over Duncan's stomach. 'You don't need to answer.' He makes sure Duncan can't by pushing two fingers into his mouth, his smile widening when Duncan obediently licks his own cum off them.

He allows Duncan a short time to calm down, waits until he has stopped shuddering and gulping down air. 'I didn't say you could stop touching yourself. You were _so_ eager to come while I wasn't there, you can't tell me you're done.'

With a moan, Duncan starts caressing himself again. Even with his cock going limp and his body exhausted after the orgasm, it makes no difference - everything he does sends waves of pleasure over him. The moans are growing louder, he can't help it.

'Look at you, so desperate. Tell me what you are.' Rhys watches hungrily.

'I'm a slut, Sir.' Duncan doesn't hesitate but saying it makes him blush even hotter.

Rhys cups Duncan's balls, makes him cry out. 'That's right. It's one of the things I love about you, but you do need to learn to obey.'

Duncan looks up at him, wide-eyed. _One of the things I love about you_ he repeats in his mind and it gives him a happy little shiver. He'd do anything to hear Rhys say it again. No-one has ever said something like that to him before, not seriously. The knowledge that he has disappointed Rhys cuts so much deeper now.

His cock is wilting but is still sensitive enough that he thrusts his hips forward with a yelp when Rhys grabs it again. 

'Please-' Duncan whimpers and doesn't know whether he wants Rhys to let go or to keep stroking him. Magic is prickling under his skin. The spell keeps him on the edge of another orgasm. 

Rhys lets go and pushes Duncan over on his back, climbs on the bed after him and starts to suck on his cock. It's limp in Rhys' mouth and his tongue probes into the foreskin, fucks into it. He has to hold Duncan down, both hands gripping his hips. Duncan clutches the bedsheets. Even the fabric rubbing against his skin is intensely pleasurable, more heat pooling in his groin. 

When Duncan gives a particularly loud moan, Rhys stops and frowns at him. 'I think maybe we should do something about the noise. And I'm tired of holding you down. If you can't control yourself, I'll make it easier for you.'

Duncan gets a moment to breathe while Rhys undresses and gets a few things: restraints, toys. Rhys ties him down, legs spread wide, arms handcuffed above his head. He puts a bell into Duncan's hand, closes his finger over it and Duncan holds it tight. The ball gag Rhys has him take into his mouth fits neatly behind his tusks and they keep it in place even before Rhys has closed the clasp on it. It makes Duncan start drooling immediately. 

Rhys kisses and pets his way down Duncan's body, agonisingly slow. His skin is soft and warm against Duncan's own. Every single one of Duncan's muscles are quivering and he twitches helplessly in his shackles, moans only slightly muffled by the gag. He wants to _come_ and he can't. With each touch, no matter where on his body, he is almost there. Almost. 

He cries out or at least tries to when Rhys pushes a plug into him. It's frustratingly small and Rhys moves it in slow thrusts with long pauses between them. Each one sends a spike of pleasure up his spine but the pauses mean it can't build up.

After a while, his cock starts to take notice of the situation again. Rhys licks over it, takes the plug out, grinning when Duncan writhes under him. He sits on Duncan's stomach, scooting back until Duncan's cock is held down by his ass. and leaning over to retrieve something from the nightstand. A feather, long and green and iridescent.

The soft touches raise every hair on Duncan's body and he squirms. He's not ticklish but even without the spell this would be intense precisely because of its tenderness. With the spell, it's nearly too much to endure. The feather traces down his arms, circles his nipples and up his neck, under his chin. Back down again, following the small trail of hairs to his stomach to where Rhys is sitting. Just a whisper on his skin but it leaves a hot trail as if cut with a knife.

His cock is hard by now and every time Rhys shifts his weight, it gets squeezed in new and painfully pleasant ways. He winces and Rhys shifts again. This repeats until Rhys frowns at him. 'Keep still.' 

Duncan can't.

With a sigh, Rhys puts away the feather and sits between Duncan's legs again, taking his cock in hand. Duncan is so overloaded by the flood of sensations that he comes after a few strokes, arching his back so hard he lifts his whole body off the bed for a moment before he collapses. The gag prevents his scream from being heard outside the room. Probably.

Duncan drifts for a bit, out of breath and exhausted. His muscles ache. As long as he doesn't move, the spell can't torture him. He almost falls asleep, still gagged and tied, until Rhys wipes the cum off his stomach. He jerks fully awake when Rhys cups his balls, pets his thighs. 

_Please, stop-_ The gag means he can only make an attempt at the words and hope that Rhys understands. 

Rhys does pause, a finger pressed against Duncan's entrance. 'Stop? Why? You wanted to come, so much so that you went against my wishes. I'm just giving you what you want. This once.' He sounds honestly baffled but an amused smile curls his lips, reveals the tips of his fangs.

His finger pushes in and Duncan's ass clenches around it, his thighs already shuddering. Just like that, he's teetering on the edge of another orgasm. He knows better than to beg for it to stop once more. Rhys would get angry.

Duncan tries to relax, closes his eyes and sinks into the warm pleasure that pulses through him with every thrust of Rhys' finger. For a while, he can float in it, keep his head above water. Then Rhys pulls out and opens the restraints on Duncan's ankles, flips him on his side. He lies behind Duncan, one hand in Duncan's hair, the other guiding his cock in and then holding Duncan's leg up so Rhys can fuck him. The wave of lust created by this pushes Duncan under and he can't breathe.

'Come for me. If you come before I do, I'll drop the spell. If not, I'll have you pleasure yourself for the rest of the night. It's your choice.' 

Rhys isn't gentle with him, or slow. He takes what he wants, pulling Duncan back on his cock with every thrust. Duncan's cock gets no friction and there's no way he can get hard in time anyway. He's exhausted and overwhelmed and he just wants to come, to get relief from being held on the edge. Rhys' cock grazes his prostate and he jerks, _almost_ there. 

It keeps happening. His balls are so tight it hurts. Every nerve is on fire. His muscles shudder and twitch. His breath comes in quick gasps. No clear thought in his head. Only the _need_ to come. His fingernails dig into his palms. 

_Please-_

When he finally gets his orgasm, it's a short, painful spasm, cum spilling from his limp cock onto the bed sheets. He wants to cry with relief. Maybe he does, he can't tell. 

Rhys fucks himself to his own orgasm, biting down on Duncan's arm when he comes, hot cum spurting into Duncan. One last wave of pleasure rolls over Duncan and then the tingle of magic fades, leaving him completely spent. He flops on his back when Rhys withdraws and lets go of him. 

Through a haze, he's aware Rhys is talking to him, praising him. Rhys takes out the gag, removes the collar and the handcuffs. It all happens at a distance. Duncan drifts for a while, still spreadeagled on the bed. Rhys cleans him up with warm water and a soft cloth, rolls him over so he can spread a towel over the wet spots they've left behind. 

When Rhys comes to lie next to him, Duncan is just awake enough to pull him into an embrace, his chest against Rhys' back. 

'-m cock hurts. I hate you.' He kisses Rhys' neck, gives a gentle bite. His tongue is heavy in his mouth and his thoughts sluggish. '-never want t'come 'gain. Ever. F'r a week a'least.'

Rhys nestles into Duncan, ass pressed against his sore cock. 'I'll remind you of that tomorrow.' He rolls on his back so he can kiss Duncan, traces his ear with a fingertip. 'Thank you, that was amazing.'

Duncan can do no more than hum agreement before sleep claims him, one hand splayed on Rhys' chest, a leg draped over him, the sweet scent of Rhys' hair in his nose.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CONTENT NOTES: Orgasm torture
> 
> Beta read by [Raunchyandpaunchy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/raunchyandpaunchy/pseuds/raunchyandpaunchy) \- thank you!
> 
> Title from [Take my Hunger](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Oesz6G2ZEmU) by Inkubus Sukkubus


	9. Witness to Your Soul

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _'Do you think we are getting lost when we play? With me holding you captive I mean.' Rhys has made gingerbread and the whole apartment smells of it, cinnamon and sweet molasses. Duncan has once pointed out that Rhys only bakes gingerbread when he's upset and he isn't wrong._  
>  A much needed talk, and some smut.
> 
> Content notes in the AN

'Do you think we are getting lost when we play? With me holding you captive I mean.' Rhys has made gingerbread and the whole apartment smells of it, cinnamon and sweet molasses. Duncan has once pointed out that Rhys only bakes gingerbread when he's upset and he isn't wrong.

Biting the head of a little ginger ork, Duncan chews while he thinks. 'During the scene? Yeah, sure. Kinda the point, isn't it?'

'Yes, and no? I'm worried that I'm manipulating you for real. That I lose perspective.' Rhys sits with his legs pulled up on the couch, his tea cup in both hands.

'I think I'd notice that. And you would, too. You worry too much.' Duncan scoots a bit closer, puts a hand on Rhys' knee.

With a sigh, Rhys puts his cup down. 'Don't dismiss this so easily, please. You said it yourself, I'm good at this. I don't _want_ to be, but I am. I look at you and I can see all the cracks, all the buttons to push. Normally, I don't do it - I pay attention to not doing it. But when we play, it's a part of it. And I _enjoy_ it. That scares me.'

'Do you want to stop?' Duncan doesn't want to, it's clear from his voice and face. But it's a serious question nonetheless and Rhys feels better already for it.

'No. But we need to talk about this. Maybe we should have talked about this much earlier. The more I think about the way the knife play went, the more it freaks me out. I should have stopped that. I should have at least checked in on you. And last time-- you didn't even hesitate when I suggested the spell. But you _hate_ having magic done to you normally. I- I don't know, I'm worried we're losing sight of the risks.' Rhys bites his lip. Duncan's face has become unmoving, his eyes guarded. This is not going well.

There's a long pause before Duncan answers, his voice carefully neutral. 'I think I can be trusted to know my own mind? To make these decisions. It's not like we didn't talk about the spell before. I trust you, how about you trust me too?'

'I do, you know that.' It hurts to hear Duncan say this and Rhys takes a moment to breathe and to calm himself. 'It's not about trust. It's about taking a step back and looking at what we're doing. To make sure we're safe or at least aware of the risks we take. I _know_ I got so caught up in the knife play, in the way you hurt yourself for me that I ignored the need for a check in. You handed me a lot of power over yourself. You know how good that feels, how easy it is to get lost in it.'

Duncan flinches, dismay spreading on his face, shoulders sagging. All the fight goes out of him. He gives Rhys' leg a reassuring squeeze before he gets up and walks over to the window, stands with his back to Rhys. Hugging himself, he stays silent for so long that Rhys follows him to put a hand on his back, rubbing little circles.

'I'm sorry.' Duncan doesn't turn around, but leans into Rhys' touch. 'You're right, I guess. I can't just blindly rely on you. That's not fair to you. Leaving you to worry about all of this alone.' Now he turns, the dismay replaced with a softness that makes Rhys' heart ache. No matter how often he sees it, Rhys will never get used to the way Duncan makes himself vulnerable for him. He wraps Duncan in an embrace, face pressed against his neck. The tension drains out of both of them.

They settle on the couch again. Rhys nibbles the legs off a ginger ork, more for the comfort of the taste than due to any real appetite. 'I enjoy how we play. And I enjoy how much you get into this. But when you are in your captive persona, I'm afraid that I could push you into things you don't actually want or that you regret afterwards. Like the spell. And I'm afraid of the gas-lighting bleeding into our normal life. I _think_ we are far enough away that it doesn't happen but we should watch out for it.'

Duncan thinks it over, takes his time. A ginger ork and its bear companion later, he leans forward to touch Rhys' face, just a quick brush with his fingertips. 'We don't use stuff I really feel for the gas-lighting. I don't really think that no one wants me. I'm afraid they won't stick around, but that's different and we don't touch that. So we're okay there.'

'Do you want to plan out the scenes a bit more? And check in as soon as things go off script? I'm not so out of it that I can't give you a straight answer then. Might take a second.' Duncan holds out his hand for Rhys to take and Rhys does, gives it a squeeze.

'Can you do me a favour and take a couple of days to really think about the gas lighting? Sleep on it. It can be hard to figure out, take it from me. And for the rest, planning and a little bit of a script makes me feel better about this. Let's go with that.' Rhys uncurls Duncan's fingers and idly traces shapes on his palm.

Duncan gives a hum of agreement. They sit for a while in comfortable silence, thoughts drifting. Rhys watches the ebb and flow of Duncan's aura, green and clear like tropical seas, darker where Rhys' own moss-green flows into it. He's so entranced by it that he yelps when Duncan pulls him into his lap, but he quickly recovers and moves to straddle Duncan. There's the taste of ginger and cinnamon on Duncan's lips when Rhys kisses him.

One hand in Duncan's mohawk, the other sneaking under his t-shirt, Rhys goes diving in the green sea to see if he can reach some of the rubies he sees glinting on the bottom. Duncan does his own exploring, unbuttoning Rhys' shirt, his hands warm on Rhys' skin.

It doesn't take long for the rubies to melt into a lava flow that pulls Rhys along with it. He surfaces, a little out of breath, when Duncan tongues at his nipples, sucks at the skin hard enough to leave a bruise. Their shirts have been tossed aside and Rhys searches for the buttons of Duncan's pants.

'Wait.' Duncan pulls him close, moves forward and stands up, Rhys clinging to him. A few steps take them halfway through the living room. With a small groan, Duncan hoists Rhys higher up on his hips. 'Hold on to me.'

Carefully, Duncan lets go of him and opens his own pants, shimmies them down along with his boxers. He even manages to get rid of his socks without losing balance. Hugging Rhys close, he kicks them aside and elbows the bedroom door open. Rhys squirms a little until he has trapped Duncan's cock between them, pressing hard against his own.

The taste of salt and clean skin fills his mouth when he licks and nibbles at Duncan's neck. Duncan is at his mercy, carrying him like this, and Rhys uses his chance, makes him shudder by tenderly biting his ear.

When Duncan tries to put him down on the bed, Rhys doesn't let go. He only clings harder and Duncan relents, climbs onto the bed with him until he is stretched out on top of Rhys. Both hands in Rhys hair, he slowly ruts against him, muffles his moans by biting into Rhys' shoulder. His weight keeps Rhys in place and he falls into a rhythm with Duncan, pushing up to grind their cocks together.

Eventually, when Rhys gets frustrated by the layer of fabric separating them, Duncan manages to untangle himself. He pulls off what clothes Rhys has left and crouches over him, muscles bunching under Rhys' palms. Holding Rhys' gaze, he takes them both in hand. His fingers glide up and down, squeezing their shafts together, fingers rubbing over the tips. When Rhys starts to moan, Duncan leans down and pushes his tongue into Rhys' mouth, silencing him with a wild kiss that lasts until they are both out of breath.

'Don't move.' Duncan takes a moment to dig in the nightstand for lube, opens Rhys' legs to kneel between them. He spreads lube on his cock, slicks himself up, spreads some on Rhys entrance, dips a finger inside. Rhys gives a long sigh at the welcome intrusion, but he's left with a frustrating emptiness when Duncan pulls out immediately again.

His whine turns into a choked cry as Duncan's cock fills him in one slow thrust. Rhys wraps his legs around Duncan's waist to keep him inside, rolls his hips to take him even deeper.

Duncan gathers him in his arms and sits up, Rhys straddling him again. He looks up at Rhys with a smile, his voice soft and low. 'You are such a greedy slut. I love you.'

Rhys whimpers at Duncan's cock slipping in and out of him. Duncan moves him easily, holding on to his waist. All out of words, Rhys makes do with kisses, everywhere he can reach. Heat pools in his stomach with every thrust, his cock squeezed between them.

When Duncan speeds up, Rhys can only hold on, fingers digging into Duncan's shoulders. Duncan spreads his legs wider and pushes himself up so he can fuck into Rhys. Rhys is caught between Duncan's cock thrusting into him and his body getting pushed down on it by Duncan's hands. His moans turn into little breathless cries.

He closes his eyes, astral sight coming alive around him. Duncan's clear sea and Rhys' dark forest are both on fire, flames sweeping everything away and taking Rhys' mind with them. He tumbles, a spark in the gale, swallowed up by the blaze.

When he finds himself again, he's on top of Duncan, still held tight in his arms. Rhys moves and Duncan's cock slips out of him, making Duncan gasp and shiver. With a sigh, Rhys nestles into him, not minding the slippery wetness between them for now. He just wants to be close to Duncan, share his warmth and listen to his breathing and pulse growing slower.

'I love you too.' He murmurs it into Duncan's ear and the answering hug squeezes the breath out of him.

Lazily, he combs fingers through Duncan's hair and gives him a long, languid kiss. The faintest hint of cinnamon is still there. Duncan watches him, plays with Rhys' hair, winding strands of it around his fingers. Light reflects in his eyes, gives the dark brown a warm glow. Rhys wants to stay like this forever, safe and warm.

Forever lasts until cum trickles down his leg, starts to itch on his stomach. He squirms in Duncan's arms and kisses him. 'Do you think you can carry me to the bathtub? I'll give you a backrub if you do.'

Duncan groans and starts to get up, never letting go of Rhys. 'Everything for you, my love.'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta read by [Raunchyandpaunchy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/raunchyandpaunchy/pseuds/raunchyandpaunchy)
> 
> Title from Dead Can Dance's [Tell Me About the Forest](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=I_th3z4_nf0&spfreload=5)
> 
> Shout out to Syllis who came up with the idea of the ginger orks in her Skyrim/Shadowrun crossover [Two Sides of the Coin](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20080297/chapters/47557855)!
> 
> CONTENT INFO: discussions of abuse, really fluffly soft sex


End file.
